


Creation Myth

by featherhearted



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Bottom Ferdinand von Aegir, M/M, Mutual Pining, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Top Hubert von Vestra, Villainsexual Ferdinand von Aegir, just a ton of real horny decision making tbqh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:15:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 36,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28133019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/featherhearted/pseuds/featherhearted
Summary: Hubert licked his lips, just the slightest movement of pink tongue sliding over his bottom lip. “That is a compelling argument,” he said, voice very low.  “Ferdinand von Aegir, entirely at my disposal.”“For a month,” repeated Ferdinand, because it was better than moaning aloud at the thought of what being at Hubert’s disposal meant.“A month, of course.” Hubert looked down at the way his hands were tight on the desk. Ferdinand watched as he very consciously relaxed his grip. “Very well.”Hubert and Ferdinand come to an agreement.
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 166
Kudos: 381





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The very loosest definition of a plot, with a whole lot of porn.
> 
>  _A Long, Fatal Love-Chase_ belongs to Louisa May Alcott and cannot possibly be improved upon.
> 
> Thank you for all your encouragement and the other book titles, [qwertyuiop678](https://archiveofourown.org/users/qwertyuiop678/pseuds/qwertyuiop678). The content warnings, alas, are all my own.
> 
> Contains: masturbation, toys, fantasizing, snooping, nippleplay, blowjobs, mild D/S, control kink
> 
> (Please note, there is some very minor speculation of suicidal ideation in the very beginning. Please take care of yourself!)

The journey to the dukedom of Aegir was unavoidably tedious. Hubert rattled along in his carriage with not even a bandit attack or five to vent his spleen on. He tried to busy himself with paperwork but Lady Edelgard - that is, Her Majesty - was as ever correct.

“You’re not going to be able to keep all of that organized,” she said, as they stood by and watched the contents of his filing cabinets being loaded into his carriage.

“Yes, I am.”

“On a two week journey on bumpy roads?” Lady Edelgard - Her Majesty - kept her voice low so only Hubert could hear her, in deference to their constant need to provide a united front. “You’ll have your maps of the Airmid mixed up with reformations of Rusalka’s tax regime in two hours.”

“No, I won’t.”

Lady Edelgard - argh, _Her Majesty_ , the Emperor of Adres - oh whatever. Hubert permitted himself this small liberty in the safety of his own head. Lady Edelgard crossed her arms and said, “Hmph. Do not say I didn’t warn you, Hubert.”

Hubert merely bowed. Lady Edelgard’s mouth tightened imperceptibly. This is how they fought. Hubert could not bring himself to argue with her. Sometimes they resolved it by Lady Edelgard pretending she did not notice when he went behind her back or ignored her orders. When she refused to pretend, Hubert begrudgingly complied in monosyllables. 

It was all very healthy and mature behaviour.

Hubert took up another page from the pile of papers he had just organized and as he did so, the carriage went over a stone. The pile slid onto the carriage floor, as it had the first ten times that day alone. Hubert kicked it, then leaned back and closed his eyes. He could organize it again; it at least made the time pass.

Instead, his mind went back to the reason for his travel, as relentless as a child tonguing a bad tooth. 

The requisition of Duke Aegir’s wealth was a long, drawn out process. Only House Bergliez had more land and Aegir territory benefited from its closeness to the breadbasket of Fodlan and its control of the coastline, with several notable and heavily taxed ports facilitating its easy trading with the counties of Rusalka, Boramas and Hresvelg. With Duke Aegir gone, someone had to administer the Aegir estate and oversee its transition to Crown property. Who better to do so than Ferdinand, his firstborn, his heir, who decried his father’s corruption, declared loyalty openly to the new Emperor and her war against the corrupt church? 

Hubert had not thought it a good idea. His classmates swore themselves to Edelgard’s cause, one after the other. Ferdinand’s oath of allegiance was quietly spoken, his face still and faraway. Hubert set himself to watch him and so he saw the way Ferdinand only came alive when they were in battle. He fought like he danced, with a concentration of technical precision that was almost grace, but his eyes were wild. Hubert took his eyes off Ferdinand and Lady Edelgard for one second to hastily force a concoction down Linhart’s throat and in that blink of time, Ferdinand managed to get in the way of an axe. It caught him deep in the shoulder, a splutter of blood in the air. Afterwards, he protested that it had been aimed for Lady Edelgard’s head. 

“I was in no danger,” Lady Edelgard said later to Hubert.

“That can be hard to ascertain correctly in battle.”

“No, Hubert, I am certain of it,” Lady Edelgard said. “Ferdinand did not need to take that blow for me.”

Hubert felt his throat tighten. He cleared it. “If that is what he - if he chooses to throw his life away like that, let it be in service to your safety.”

He wished he had not said it immediately. Lady Edelgard’s face looked ten years older as she replied, “Nevertheless. Ferdinand has sworn himself to my cause. It comes at great cost to him. It is natural that his heart should be troubled. We must watch out for him, Hubert.”

But it was Dorothea who came with Ferdinand when he requested leave to return to the Aegir estates. Ferdinand’s flamboyant cooperation removed a potentially powerful figurehead from Lady Edelgard’s opposition and sent a convincing message about the righteousness of her cause, Dorothea argued in concert with Ferdinand. And so Lady Edelgard had conceded and let Ferdinand go home.

Ferdinand had been dutifully sending the proceeds of the Aegir holdings to the Crown but there was still Wildfall Court, the seat of the Aegir family, and its stable of fine warhorses. To say nothing of what was inside the house. 

The Aegir ladies had always been fond of jewelry, the men of weapons, and the whole family fond of silverware. The Aegir Grand Service was four thousand pieces and it was worth at least half of Faerghus (the good half, not Galatea territory). The war funds had to come from somewhere.

It had been four years since Lady Edelgard’s open declaration of war against the Church of Seiros. Three years since Ferdinand von Aegir had begged leave to return to Aegir lands to oversee its transition to Crown property. And now, Hubert was there to speed that process along and retrieve the Grand Service for melting.

“And bring Ferdinand back to Enbarr while you’re at it,” Lady Edelgard said.

Hubert was not the right person for this and he said so - at least, he said this was not a reasonable use of his time. Lady Edelgard had disagreed. So here he was, bumping along roads that had once been well-kept but were no longer, rolling inexorably towards the remaining Aegir family whose lives he had ruined. Hubert had always prided himself on doing what had to be done, but that didn’t mean he relished the idea of arriving in person to seize the plates and cutlery and their oldest son too. 

If that oldest son was willing to be seized, and Hubert had his doubts there.

***

They emerged through a dense thicket of trees, arriving at Wildfall Court as dusk fell. Out in the countryside, Enbarr’s temperate autumns became significantly chillier once the sun began its descent. Hubert suspected it had something to do with all the leaves, though he didn’t think the grass was innocent either. 

A knock came from the top of the carriage and his coachwoman said, “You’re certain this is the right place?”

Hubert peered out into the gloom. The house was certainly big and pretentious-looking enough to be the seat of the Aegir family but it was dark. Usually the great houses were overrun with staff, gardeners to see the carriage rolling along the lanes, sentry to send word to the housekeepers, footmen to lift out one’s luggage. Hubert hadn’t thought he was unexpected. Surely Lady Edelgard had written?

He opened the carriage door and tugged his cloak tighter around him. “Wait here,” he told Pomona and walked towards the swoop of stairs leading up to the great wooden doors, gravel crunching under his boots. The door knockers were shaped like two large human hands, hanging limply as the fingers cradled an iron ball. Hubert wrinkled his nose as he lifted one and let it drop heavily, and then again. 

He waited for long enough that the horses were starting to make protesting noises. Hubert was on the verge of losing his temper and blasting through to find Ferdinand and his family’s stupid collection of silverware and fling both into the carriage. He reached up to grab that nasty iron door knocker one more time and as he did so, someone opened the door

It was Ferdinand.

“H-Hubert?” he said, sounding about as gobsmacked as if Hubert really had just Dark Spiked his way in. 

Maybe he had. Hubert certainly felt like he’d been hit in the head by a flying piece of door. Ferdinand was - Ferdinand looked -

“Your hair,” Hubert said stupidly.

“Oh.” Vaguely embarrassed, Ferdinand fingered a long lock of red-gold. “Ah, yes, I have been a bit busy truthfully. I suppose it is getting a bit too much.”

Everything about Ferdinand was a bit too much for Hubert right now. 

Ferdinand was handsome. Through his seething haze of irritation, Hubert had always been forced to acknowledge that, even when he really, _really_ did not want to. Usually this was after waking up with a start in his dormitory room at three in the morning, after uncomfortable dreams.

Ferdinand’s shoulders were broader now. He had been slender and graceful in youth and he was still that. Just - Hubert gulped - with forty-five pounds of additional muscle and a very tight shirt on. And his _hair_. Hubert had never seen anything like it. Ferdinand wore it loose and it fell in twists and waves of russet and orange and gold, like a drunken sunset. Hubert had the errant thought that if he plunged his hands in that waving mass, they would surely come away burned. His fingers twitched with desire anyway. 

With a jolt, Hubert realised that Ferdinand had also been studying him in turn. His honeyed eyes travelled up Hubert until their gazes met and held. Ferdinand’s face was red. 

“Oi!” roared Pomona. “Is this the right place or not? Because these horses need feeding and combing and we’ve been standing out here at least twenty minutes now!”

Hubert whirled around furiously. He opened his mouth but before he could say anything resulting in dismissal or instantaneous death, Ferdinand called down:

“My apologies! We were not expecting your arrival for a few more days yet. I will come down and show you where the stables are. Hubert, I will get your things settled shortly.”

And he walked past Hubert. Feeling like he had no choice, Hubert went with him. Ferdinand started to help his coachwoman unload the carriage and instead of asking where the footmen were, Hubert did so as well. He followed silently as Ferdinand took the reins of the horses, taking them towards the stables, chatting with Pomona the whole while. Here at least there was some sign that Ferdinand was not all alone in that huge, dark house. The stables were warm and well-lit, filled with the smell of straw and horse and a groom came forward immediately to take the reins from Ferdinand.

“Please make sure to take Miss Gessner to the kitchens so she can get a warm meal. Perhaps a hot bath too. It must have been a chilly journey for you.”

Hubert’s coachwoman gave Ferdinand one last adoring look as she went. Hubert wondered sourly where his warm meal and hot bath were as Ferdinand led him back to the front of the house. To his immense shock, Ferdinand hoisted one of Hubert’s chests onto his shoulders. 

“Saints, Hubert! What is in here? Poisons surely cannot weigh this much.”

“That shows how much poisoning experience you have,” sniped Hubert automatically, reaching down to pick up his own bag as his mind worked. Where were all the servants? He still remembered Ferdinand’s surprise in the first few days at Garreg Mach when he found out the students were expected to cook and clean around the monastery and now here he was, acting like Hubert’s porter. Also, Lady Edelgard was right. He absolutely should not have packed so much paperwork. Who knew how heavy it could become? 

Ferdinand went up the stairs slowly but steadily, bracing Hubert’s chest. There was sufficient sunlight to watch the way his hair fell and the way his shoulders moved under his shirt. Hubert wasn’t what you could call a godly man but under the circumstances, it almost seemed rude not to send up a prayer of thankfulness. 

A woman hurried to meet them as they came in. Clearly Ferdinand’s housekeeper, she wore a harried expression and was already coming forward with her hands outstretched to divest Hubert of his bags. Hubert couldn’t help the rush of relief at her pleasant normality as she fussed around them.

“This is my old schoolmate, Mrs. Brunhold,” Ferdinand said. “I think we will have to put him in the Derrick suites. I can take him there myself. Perhaps you could let Lady Aegir know that dinner should be served in the blue dining room tonight instead.”

Mrs. Brunhold opened her mouth and closed it again as Ferdinand gave her a little nod. “Of course, Master Ferdinand,” she said. She bowed towards Hubert. “It is a pleasure to have a guest in the house, Mr…?”

“Oh, this is Hubert von Vestra. My old schoolmate. But I said that already.” For some reason, Ferdinand was blushing. Hubert watched the way his skin warmed at his cheeks and ears. He wanted to lean forward and catch at a lobe with his lips and teeth. He wanted to see if Ferdinand’s skin would be hot against his tongue. He wanted to - _what_ was happening to him?

The look Mrs. Brunhold gave him became repressive. Hubert reminded himself it was impossible that she could read his mind. “I see,” she said. “I will inform Lady Aegir who will be dining with you tonight. If you will leave his trunk, Master Ferdinand, and I will see that Wilhelm takes it up.”

“Should I leave any special instructions for Wilhelm?” Ferdinand asked as he took Hubert up an ostentatiously carved staircase. The wallpaper was white and silver, very intermittently lit by candles. Ferdinand caught all the light there was, it gleamed in the auburn currents of his hair, the gold of his eyes. Hubert told himself to stop looking at Ferdinand’s accursed mane. Obediently, his eyes slid down to Ferdinand’s ass instead, the muscles moving under the fine cotton sateen of Ferdinand’s pants.

“Special instructions?” he managed. 

“Should Wilhelm keep your trunk upright?” Ferdinand said. “Will it blow him to smithereens if he is not supremely careful putting it down?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Hubert snapped. After a moment, he added, “He should keep it upright. And lower it gently to the floor. And put it somewhere the sunlight isn’t too strong.”

“I will be sure to let him know,” said Ferdinand wrily, glancing over his shoulder. Their eyes met and Hubert watched in fascination as Ferdinand reddened again and whipped his head around to face the hall. The blush was all the way down the back of his neck now. Hubert wanted to see how low it could go.

“Did Her Majesty write?” Hubert said as they walked. He wanted to make Ferdinand look at him again.

“Her letter arrived only a few days ago, we did not expect you here so soon,” Ferdinand said. 

“My arrival took you by surprise.” 

“To put it mildly,” Ferdinand said, glancing at Hubert. “Ah, through here, please.”

He took Hubert through another, smaller hallway and then into a large set of rooms, one of which had a four-poster bed, a series of horse paintings hung in gilt frames on the walls, and an enormous window with a wide ledge. Hubert instinctively drew the curtains. The sun was gone by now and he did not relish the thought of anyone getting a good look into his quarters. There was nothing he could do about the horse paintings but it was a nice room, surprisingly cozy despite its size. 

“There is an office through here,” Ferdinand said, taking him through the connecting door. It held shelves full of books and ledgers, a large desk, and a door.

“Where does that go?” Hubert said, pointing.

“To my quarters,” Ferdinand said and then he swallowed. Hubert watched the way the smooth skin of his throat worked. When he dragged his eyes up again, Ferdinand was studying him in turn. There was a look in Ferdinand’s eyes that set Hubert’s guts clenching.

“You cut your hair,” Ferdinand said.

Hubert’s hand flew up to the nape of his neck. It suddenly felt very bare. “Dorothea insisted,” he said defensively. “She said she was quite tired of watching me loom behind Lady Edelgard looking like a second-rate villain from the Moon Knight’s Tale.”

“I always thought that a deliberate aesthetic choice on your part.”

Hubert tightened his mouth. His face - raw-boned, hollow-cheeked - served its own purpose in his role as the whip in Lady Edelgard’s hand but for some reason, Ferdinand made it difficult to outrun his childish regret at not being fairy-tale handsome. 

“Such frivolities have never been my concern,” he sneered, stepping closer, instinctively using his height to loom over Ferdinand. “We do not have time to waste in this war and you have taken a long time to wrap up your business here. It is time you returned to Enbarr to resume your responsibilities to Her Majesty.”

“A long time,” sputtered Ferdinand. As usual, he did not give way to Hubert’s implicit threat. He never had. Instead he stabbed a finger into Hubert’s face. “You think _three years_ is enough time to complete a transition of this magnitude? I have - Edelgard has _responsibilities_ to the tenants of these territories. There are repairs that must be made, plowing must be done for the spring wheat crop -”

“Lady Edelgard needs _you_ for the war effort,” hissed Hubert. “Hiding down here hoping to survive till the war is over and the dust settles has never been an option for you, Ferdinand. Not after you swore allegiance to her at Garreg Mach.”

“Of course that was never an option!” Ferdinand shouted. “I would never abandon my friends, or you and Edelgard! But I have responsibilities here as well and three years is no time at all to ensure that the people in the Aegir territory do not suffer from gross mismanagement!”

They were very close to each other. Closer than they’d ever been in school except for one idiotic instance Hubert strove never to remember, with limited success. Hubert wanted to shove Ferdinand down onto that desk, bend him over, touch him till Ferdinand was begging for his mercy. He didn’t want to think about how much of this his expression revealed. Probably enough. Ferdinand’s eyes were wild. He looked at Hubert like he didn’t know whether to kiss him, all tongue and teeth, or punch him in the face. 

Hubert was the one who stepped away. It was worth it to see the way Ferdinand’s face fell. He took a steadying breath and said, “The war needs funds, so I am here to bring back the Aegir Grand Service. But the Black Eagle Strike Force needs you. I did not mean to imply that your work here is something that can be rushed but -”

“Yes,” Ferdinand said tiredly. “Edelgard said as much. I need to go and check on dinner preparations - they should be done soon. You have had a long journey and should take time to rest.”

He started to leave the room but not before giving Hubert another up-and-down look, like he couldn’t help himself. At the door, Ferdinand turned. “Your new haircut suits you admirably,” he said, very low. “But that is not to say I did not find you compelling before.”

***

Hubert did not take any additional pains to dress for dinner. It was only natural to wash after two weeks in a carriage and on uneven roads. He had a responsibility to represent Lady Edelgard to the best of his abilities. That was the only reason he put on the shirt and frock-coat he had bought at Bernadetta and Dorothea’s behest in a little tailor shop in Enbarr. It had nothing to do with that look in Ferdinand’s eyes, the way his breath came a little more quickly when Hubert had stood closer than politeness allowed.

The coat was black, of course, but of a fine wool broadcloth instead of the hardy cotton twill of his military clothing. Despite his protests, Bernadetta had embroidered a little pattern of waterwheel plants onto the cuffs and collar. She had done it in black silk so it was barely noticeable but Hubert still felt wildly frivolous when he put it on. Hubert squinted at himself in the mirror and was about to fuss with his bangs again when a knock came. He pulled his hand away as if it were scalded.

After several large steps away from the looking glass, he said, “Enter.”

Ferdinand stuck his head in. His hair had been pulled back inexpertly from his face, straggles of red falling over his navy waistcoat. “I thought I would walk you down to the blue dining room.”

Hubert scoffed at first. Truthfully, he had hoped for time to search the room before going down to dinner. At least he’d thought to put safety measures in place for his belongings. If anyone touched them while he was out of the room, he would know it. Probably from the screaming. 

But Ferdinand insisted. “Wildfall is not an easy house to navigate.”

This was hardly Hubert’s first time in a grand house and he was used to the palace in Enbarr, after all. Historically, House Vestra did not have their own estate but they occupied a full wing of the palace, close to the emperor’s chambers, and that wing was the size of one of Enbarr’s city blocks. But Wildfall Court was like no house he had been in. It twisted and turned. Doors opened into staircases, hallways widened and then narrowed like rivers, opening suddenly into grand rooms or trickling away into odd corners. Ferdinand navigated the dreamscape of the house easily. As he followed him through the winding corridors, Hubert found himself thinking of the fairytales their old classmate, Ashe Ubert, had favoured: knights lost into Fodlan’s forests, led by fairy queens with their long, witchfire-hair.

Then he made himself get a grip. Fodlan’s forests had enough strange creatures lurking in their depths without addle-pated writers adding to the clutter. Lost saints, crest-riddled beasts, monsters who wore the faces of loved ones like a favoured cloak. There was no need to add fairy queens to the blend. 

The blue dining room lived up to its name, with a wallpaper of creamy pale azure. The Aegir family was known for their distinctive colouring, it must have been picked to flatter and it certainly did. Ferdinand’s hair was a living flame against the blue, his skin warm and gilded in the candlelight. Hubert tore his eyes away in enough time not to embarrass himself at the entrance of Mrs. Brunhold.

She laid out the servingware in silence, perhaps in deference to Hubert’s presence. Ferdinand went to the carafe to pour out drinks.

“So, the Aegir Grand Service, have you seen it in its entirety? I can take you to it tomorrow, if you would like. There is a candelabra that was specially commissioned by Bathsheba von Aegir that is particularly beautiful -”

Hubert bit down a flash of irritation. Ferdinand was speaking as if he had come here to take the silverware to a museum. With fine crystalware in his hands and his embroidered waistcoat, Ferdinand looked like he belonged to this opulent room, even with his mismanaged hair. 

Hubert could not help but think of his face after the battle of Garreg Mach, bone-white under the gore. He wanted to ask if Ferdinand’s shoulder still troubled him. Instead he sipped his wine and said, “I’m sure it will go a long way towards outfitting our troops as needed.”

“Single-minded, as always,” said Ferdinand. The corners of his mouth tilted up slightly, though Hubert couldn’t see what the Void there was to smile about. “You’re right, of course. Wilhelm and I can have it packed up quickly. I am astonished Edelgard sent you to retrieve it. She could have easily written and I could have arranged for its delivery in just a few days.”

Of course Ferdinand could not be pleased to have Hubert turn up out of the blue on his doorstep. “I doubt it will take more than a day to pack up. After all, it hardly needs to be done carefully since it will all be melted down,” Hubert said brutally.

Ferdinand looked distressed. “But Hubert, you must be careful transporting it back. A cargo of such value is hard to keep quiet and you arrived with only your coachwoman. Of course, I know how formidable you are in battle, but the two of you alone -”

“I will not be alone,” Hubert said. He took a sip of his wine and licked his lips, watching the way Ferdinand’s eyes followed the movement. “You will be with me.”

Ferdinand swallowed. “I - with you - uh -”

“Yes, I am taking you along with the silver. Can you be ready in two days?”

Ferdinand blinked and the slightly dazed expression on his face cleared significantly as the actual meaning of Hubert’s words sank in. “In two days!”

“You knew that you would have to rejoin us,” Hubert said. 

“I always planned to,” Ferdinand protested. “But at this time -”

“Her letter -”

“Arrived barely three days before you did!” Ferdinand glared at him. “This is outrageous. If you and Edelgard wanted me back in Enbarr, more notice should have been provided. Our largest planting is at hand and I cannot go away so suddenly without time to make arrangements! I have to oversee the -”

“You are no longer the Aegir heir,” Hubert snapped. “You are here by the grace of Her Majesty -”

“Very well!” flared Ferdinand. “I am here by her grace and as her steward! And she has responsibilities to the people on this land! The harvests have been good this year but that means nothing if they are not gathered and stored properly! More than thirty percent of our yield is going to the Crown and the rest must last our county through the winter -”

“That Her Majesty has allowed you to stay away so long is a marker of her faith in you. It had better not have been misplaced.”

“If you question my loyalty to Edelgard and her cause again, Hubert,” Ferdinand said, stepping towards him. “I am going to forcibly remove your teeth from your mouth. We are not pieces on a board that you and Edelgard may move at your convenience!”

When he forgot himself in argument, Ferdinand’s perfect posture dissolved as he drew himself up to meet Hubert’s height. Hubert told himself to stop noticing the broad line of Ferdinand’s shoulders but it was impossible. Ferdinand in a fury was something he could not tear his eyes away from.

A genteel little cough made itself heard. Hubert startled, eyes still full of Ferdinand’s blazing glory, and blinked at the woman standing in the door. 

“Mother!” Ferdinand exclaimed. “I did not hear you come in.”

“That much is clear,” Lady Aegir replied. She took her seat calmly.

“This is my classmate, ma’am. Hubert, my mother, Duch - uh.”

Hubert ignored Ferdinand’s fumbling of the title, bowing impassively. Lady Aegir’s entrance felt like a bucket of cold water over him.

He had known, in an academic sense, that Ferdinand must have a mother around but his spies had found little about Lady Aegir. Before her marriage, she had taken a Pegasus Knight certification during her time at the Officers’ Academy and evidently had not done much with it. She married shortly after graduating and seemed perfectly content to be left rusticating in the country while her husband peacocked himself about Enbarr. Hubert expected a nonentity, married for the legacy of Crests in her bloodline. Lady Aegir was something else entirely.

She had the same brown eyes and warm skin tone as her son. Her hair was of a deeper, bloodier tone; she wore it in a coronet around her handsome face. It was clear where Ferdinand had inherited his looks from, if not his disposition. Lady Aegir had all the animation of a marble pillar and the face she turned towards Hubert was as cold and distant as a star. If she was upset to no longer be a Duchess, she showed no sign of it, accepting Hubert’s obeisance with a calm nod.

“Of House Vestra?” she said. “You have the look of your father.”

It was the worst thing she could have said and there was no way to tell if she knew it. Hubert contented himself with inclining his head. “Yes, some people say so,” his tone making it clear what he thought of those people. 

“I knew him a little, when I was younger,” Lady Aegir said.

Hubert was saved from answering by the re-entrance of Mrs. Brunhold, and someone too young to be Mr. Brunhold. Perhaps Wilhelm, with both hands intact after handling Hubert’s trunk. They served a stew of baked quail and squab chicken, green heaps of purslane on the side. Hubert couldn’t think of the last time he had sat down for dinner with other people. Back in Enbarr, Edelgard usually ate at her desk after Hubert had tasted her food for poison. She occasionally asked him to join her; Hubert rarely did. She would have liked the stew. It was rich with butter and smelt of thyme and mushrooms. Hubert wished she was here. Even if it was unlikely she would make things less awkward. It was impossible to tell how much Lady Aegir had overheard of their conversation, she looked wholly unconcerned as she cut her food with mechanical precision.

“I hope your journey was not tiresome,” she said. “We have not had any reports of bandit activity in quite some time.”

“There were none,” Hubert said and was surprised at the look of naked relief on Ferdinand’s face. “Have you had problems with that?”

“Many, before Ferdinand’s return,” Lady Aegir said, as calmly as if she were discussing the weather. “Fortunately, it is no longer an issue for now.”

“It was certainly not all my doing,” Ferdinand started to say. “And they did not manage to terrorize too much of the territory, thanks to -”

“Nonsense,” Lady Aegir said and to Hubert’s astonishment, Ferdinand shut his mouth with a snap. “It is an issue that could reemerge at any time, depending on the coming circumstances.” She placed her fork down and turned to look at Hubert fully. “It is to be hoped that Her Majesty may resolve her war sooner, rather than later.”

Ferdinand was famous for his headlong rushes into tactlessness, but Lady Aegir’s plain-speaking was as calculated as rolling a ballista onto the field. Hubert felt a rush of pleasure dealing with an opponent who clearly considered rapier wit as useless as a toothpick. He too preferred the mace to the face approach. 

“I share your sentiments,” he said. “Since Aegir territory now belongs to the Crown, its resources should be marshalled to best support Her Majesty’s war towards a swift victory. And that includes the return of General Aegir to the field.”

“Since Aegir territory now belongs to the Crown, Edelgard should take particular care to ensure the wellbeing of its people!” Ferdinand exploded. Clearly his temper had not been quenched by his mother’s entrance. “The Conscription Act means an acute shortage of labour -”

“You swore your allegiance to Lady Edelgard,” hissed Hubert, feeling his own temper spike helplessly in response, “and I will not allow you to abandon her now -”

“Part of that allegiance means making sure this territory is run well! The profits from our yield go straight to the Crown -”

Even Ferdinand’s hair seemed to bristle as he spoke. Hubert grit his teeth, watching the way the blue ribbon strained vainly to hold the thick fall of red in place. He felt in distinct sympathy with it, barely able to leash his desire to get Ferdinand by the lapels and -

There was the cool tinkle of metal as Lady Aegir placed her spoon down. She did not speak until they had wrenched their gazes away from each other and were looking at her, Ferdinand in some embarrassment, Hubert with plain suspicion. 

“A month should be sufficient,” she said. 

“A month,” Hubert echoed distrustfully. 

“A month? Yes!” Ferdinand clapped his hands onto the table, causing the crystal to chime. “That would be sufficient. Hubert, give me a month. I can ensure a smooth transition, one that ensures both Edelgard and Aegir territory’s needs are met.”

Before Hubert could respond, Lady Aegir said, “The two of you may think on it further after dinner.” Her cool, amber eyes were on Hubert. “I trust that is enough for us to have a peaceful meal?”

Hubert did not think it was remotely adequate but Ferdinand was looking at him pleadingly and he needed more time to think. He did not say anything but took a sip of his wine. Both Lady Aegir and Ferdinand took that as enough acquiescence to begin a low patter - mostly led by Ferdinand - of estate business. Lady Aegir made the requisite listening noises. Hubert felt her eyes flickering over him though he never caught her at it. Eventually, she signalled the end of the meal by pushing her chair back. 

“You must be tired,” she said to Hubert. “Let me call for Wilhelm to take you back to the Derrick Suite. Ferdinand, I would like to speak to you a little further on the matter of orchards.”

It seemed ridiculous to protest. Wilhelm had clearly been waiting at the door and sprung into action at the mention of his name. Hubert left the remaining Aegir family in their cool blue room and as he did so, he noticed that Lady Aegir had left her plate mostly untouched.

***

It did not inspire him with much ease, though Ferdinand had eaten from the same dishes and cleared his plate heartily enough. Wilhelm was not inclined to be chatty and Hubert made a note to have his coachwoman see what information she could get out of the staff, such as they were. He paid sharp attention as he was led to his rooms - without Ferdinand there to distract him, it was much easier - and was pleased to already find the route familiar.

A wave of relief crested over him as he entered the large, strange room. It was a distinct pleasure to be alone again after two weeks on the road, and one of the most disorienting evenings he had spent. Hubert stripped off his clothes. His immediate inclination was to go to bed but a long-ingrained habit had him examining the room before he would let himself sleep. 

It was clear no one had been in here since he had left with Ferdinand; his little traps were undisturbed. Yet, as Hubert poked and prodded around the room, his sense of disquiet grew. The room was neat and tidy but it simply did not have the impersonality of a guest suite. There were an awful lot of horse paintings, though perhaps that was simply the way Aegir tastes went. Hubert, who considered interior decorating mostly from the standpoint of how many knives were too many for one pillow, did not feel he was in the position to judge.

The office shelves contained years of estate account books and ledgers. The quills at the desk were well-used, the ink bottle half empty. Pulling open the drawers revealed familiar bags of tea. Hubert recognized them at once as Ferdinand’s favourite Southern Fruit blend. 

He went back into the bedroom. The bookshelves there held a ridiculous amount of weapons catalogues, along with novels with titles like _The Courteous Spectre_ , _The Albinean_ and _A Long and Fatal Love Chase_. Hubert was about to pull out a volume titled _Severity and Servitude_ before he decided he really did not want to know. 

He sat down heavily on the bed and eyed the nightstand beside it suspiciously. The first drawer held an empty notepad, several dry apple cores and a tangle of ribbons. That was more than sufficient to confirm his suspicions and yet, Hubert pulled open the second drawer anyway.

He stared at the glass instrument inside it, the little vials of oil. The realization burned over his skin, or maybe it was the sudden sharp image of Ferdinand using this toy on himself - 

On hands and knees on the bed, long hair falling in red coils over his shoulders, slicking his fingers up with that oil. Sliding long digits into himself with a soft gasp. Spreading his knees even wider as he sunk down onto his fingers, preparing himself. Maybe he would be impatient, slicking himself thickly with oil and pressing two fingers in, just eager for what came next. Low little noises of need that blurred into a name at the end.

Ferdinand sliding the toy into himself, sighing with the pleasure of being filled, cock heavy and dripping between his legs. He would drag it in and out, scraping noises of pleasure from his throat with each movement. Arching his back as his hand worked -

And then Ferdinand was on his back, hair spread in a blaze over the pillows. _Hubert_ , he would say, hips canting upwards needily, _Hubert, please - ah! - Please, I beg you - do not make me wait -_

Waiting would be exactly what Hubert had in mind. Anything to keep Ferdinand looking at him like this, his eyes fixed on Hubert like he could not look away. Like all his wants and wishes were concentrated solely on him. Ferdinand’s nipples peaked, sensitive. His mouth wet, open, panting Hubert’s name.

When Hubert approached, it would round greedily and Ferdinand would moan again as Hubert straddled his chest, pressed his cock into that wet, willing warmth. Ferdinand’s tongue sliding against the underside of his cock. Ferdinand’s cheeks hollowing as he sucked. The flutter of his eyelashes as Hubert ordered him to keep his eyes open, watch Hubert’s face as he fucked Ferdinand’s mouth.

He would cry out around the cock in his throat as Hubert reached back to play with his nipples, the sound with an edge of a sob to it as Ferdinand’s hands fisted into the sheets, as he ached, not touching himself without Hubert’s permission, taking his pleasure only as Hubert willed it -

Hubert cursed. His orgasm felt like a blow to the head. The burn in his gut slowly faded with the image of Ferdinand, filled at both ends and at Hubert’s pleasure. He had spilled all over his hand like a callow youth in an embarrassingly short amount of time. 

Hubert shut the drawer without another look at its contents and cleaned himself off. Resolutely refusing to think, he fell back into the bed - Ferdinand’s bed - and closed his eyes. He would find out the reason for all of this tomorrow. The lack of servants, what Lady Aegir was about. Why the hell he had been placed in Ferdinand’s personal rooms and where Ferdinand was sleeping in the meantime. Whether there was room in the carriage for his paperwork, four thousand silver pieces of ostentatious claptrap, and Ferdinand hog-tied to take back to Enbarr.

Hubert’s eyes shot open. He should not have thought about Ferdinand hog-tied and taken. He made a furious noise and did not allow himself to bury his face into a pillow to search out more the scent of Ferdinand’s bergamot hair oil. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was the silverware gilded in chapter 1? you spend twenty minutes trying to figure out what happens when you melt silver-gilt and if it's still valuable currency.
> 
> Thank you as always to [qwertyuiop678](https://archiveofourown.org/users/qwertyuiop678/pseuds/qwertyuiop678) who provided Lady Aegir with one of her best and most outraged lines.
> 
> Content warnings for this chapter: the gleeful proposal and acceptance of dub-connish roleplay, arguably edging?, references to masturbation.
> 
> Other warnings: parental estrangement, emotional neglect

Ferdinand’s night was uncomfortable. His dreams were peaceless, full of hooded green eyes glinting with a terrible hunger, shadowy embraces and the disorienting sensation of a flight turned suddenly into an endless fall.

He also awoke with a crick in the neck. 

Ferdinand went heavy-eyed to the stables, making his way more by muscle memory than any conscious thought. Astraea gently nuzzled into his hand as Ferdinand gave her the first apple of the day and he led her out, swinging himself up easily. She pranced below him, pulling on the bit and Ferdinand let her lead on the familiar trail. He took Astraea on almost the same route every morning and they streaked through the grounds of the estate. Over the years, Lady Aegir had replaced more and more of the lawn with trees. Ferdinand had some dim memory of miles of rolling green before he went to Enbarr with his father, but by the time he was eleven, the young trees stood at twice the height of a full-grown man. There were pathways through the trees but the impression given was Wildfall Court slowly being consumed by forest. 

Ferdinand had been appalled when he returned but now, three years later, he liked it - the way the tangle of leaves cast shadowed patterns on the trail in high summer and the bare latticework of branches let the sky in during winter. 

He looked up as he rode. It was still dark yet but he could just make out a sleek, black pegasus arrowing its way down towards the house at a sharp angle. Ferdinand might have been worried if he had not seen the same sight every day for the last three years. His mother, also an early riser, taking her own morning ride.

Yesterday night, as Hubert had stalked out of the blue dining room, she had looked at Ferdinand and raised an immaculate eyebrow. “You do not often speak of your classmates to me,” she said. “I suppose I can see why.”

“Hubert is - they are not all like Hubert!” Ferdinand said. 

“I should hope not,” Lady Aegir said and shortly after, made it clear that Ferdinand could retire.

Ferdinand hated to remember himself at seventeen, so desperate to beat Edelgard, never realizing he was no kind of contender in the larger game she and Hubert had entangled themselves in. And for what? He could barely remember. To make Hubert von Vestra look at him? Well, Hubert was looking at him now and with a vengeance. 

It was humiliating to realize that three years away had done absolutely nothing to temper his teenage fascination. If Ferdinand had found Hubert’s lean height intriguing at Garreg Mach against every instinct of self preservation he possessed, it was nothing compared to the feeling that had seized him when he opened the door to find Hubert at the step. Scowling, wrapped in a capacious black cloak, looming out of the dark night like a creature from a lurid novel or one of Ferdinand’s more feverish dreams. Ferdinand had followed the long line of Hubert’s legs up to meet his gaze through a fall of thick, dark waves and his breath had caught in his throat with a sensation of terrified excitement at the look in Hubert’s eyes.

Life was complicated enough without resuscitating a fascination with Hubert von Vestra but Ferdinand was trying to grow out of the habit of lying to himself. He had never tried to stop provoking Hubert, to get those sharp, green eyes on him and keep them there, and he did not plan to start now.

By the time Ferdinand took Astraea back to the stables at a more easy pace, he was much more awake. The sun was just beginning its slow, sluggish crawl across the sky. It promised to a lovely day, cold and bright, the way Ferdinand liked it best. Ferdinand led Astraea into the stables, laughing as she nudged against him for the treats she had come to expect at the end of every ride. 

“You horrid, overfed creature,” he said fondly and was about to spoil her further with the apples he carried for that express purpose when he stopped short at the sight of an unfamiliar woman, grooming an equally unfamiliar horse.

“Good morning, Duke Aegir,” Hubert’s coachwoman, Pomona Gessner, stopped what she was doing to bow. 

She was unusually healthy looking for an agent of Hubert’s, with snapping black eyes and rosy cheeks, tousled black hair waving around her face. The members of Vestra Sorcery Engineers tended to be shadow-eyed and several of them had the pale, spindly look of creatures who didn’t get out in the sun too much. From Dorothea’s letters, Ferdinand knew they were not popular. Their quarters suffered minor explosions frequently and they had a tendency to hog the small supply of caffeine in the mess halls.

“Good morning!” Ferdinand said. “You do not need to address me as Duke Aegir though. It is not technically correct anyway, since my father is still alive.” He had been stripped of his position of Prime Minister but Edelgard had not yet gotten around to extinguishing the title with her Royal Prerogative. Ferdinand assumed it was just a matter of time. “Just Ferdinand will do.”

“Quite so,” said Pomona, clearly unconvinced by Ferdinand’s attempt at “member-of-the-proletariat” bonhomie. “I hope you enjoyed your morning ride. Marquis Vestra has requested your presence.”

Ferdinand’s hands tightened on Astraea’s mane involuntarily. She nickered in irritation and gave him a wounded look. Ferdinand smoothed her down apologetically. “Oh,” he said, attempting casualness. “He’s up already?”

“Apparently so,” Pomona said wryly, her expression suggesting that being sent to the stables to tend to horses before the sun was up after two weeks of driving had not been her idea. “If you would like to leave your horse to me, I can certainly see to her.”

“Oh no, that is not necessary, but thank you!” Ferdinand said. “Astraea can be quite a picky mount. Though truthfully, these days are so busy, having these moments with her is more for my sake than hers.”

He was aware he was babbling but it was one thing to come to terms with an abrupt and unceremonious reintroduction of his attraction to Hubert alone in the forest with Astraea. Her unconditional lack of judgement, on account of being a horse, was unspeakably soothing to Ferdinand. Continuing to be on terms with it while Hubert was actually in the room was another thing entirely. 

“Right,” Pomona said. “Only - as soon as possible was the way he put it.”

Her clear expectation that Ferdinand ought to take off running at Hubert’s command put his back up. Ferdinand tossed his head. “I will be certain to let him know you delivered the message promptly,” he said, even as his heart sped up at the thought of Hubert’s ire.

Pomona shrugged and made a face that clearly indicated it was his funeral, not hers.

***

Astraea only nipped Ferdinand twice for his inattention, which was quite good considering his mind was elsewhere completely, full of Hubert’s cat-green eyes narrowed in dangerous annoyance and the way his thin lips twisted in a disdainful sneer.

A noble did not appear before his guest with straw in his hair and something unnameable at the bottom of his boots. That was the only reason Ferdinand took extra care in washing the morning off himself. He was just wiping his face when a furious pounding came on his door - the one connected to his office. 

“Ferdinand!” Hubert said from the other side. “I know you are in there! And I know Pomona told you I wanted to see you as soon as possible!”

“This is the soonest it is possible, Hubert!” Ferdinand said irritably. “In the Goddess’s name, she found me just as my ride ended and I wanted to freshen up.”

The doorknob jiggled threateningly and Ferdinand straightened. In his decision to keep Hubert waiting, he had failed to take into account the fact that Hubert was entirely capable of barging into the room if he got any more impatient. Ferdinand did not want to risk him seeing the old couch he was sleeping on, the collection of packing boxes that served as tables in the meanwhile. 

“Saints, Hubert! I am coming!” he yelled. This was all bringing him back forcibly to his time at Garreg Mach when Hubert had been in charge of rousing everyone for their day’s mission. Even though Lindhardt was almost constitutionally impossible to wake in time, Hubert had always seemed to reserve an extra serving of aggravation for Ferdinand.

Ferdinand made sure Hubert could hear him storming to the office, taking the longer way rather than simply opening the connecting door. He entered, scowling. Hubert was already dressed, of course. And looking immaculate too, untouchable in his habitual black jacket and high collars. He even had his gloves on already. The only sliver of skin Hubert ever allowed to show was the barest hint of pale throat, so it was doubly humiliating to appear in front of him en dishabille, with his jacket caught in his arms, waistcoat hanging open and his cravat untied. He had his hair in his hands, a ribbon between his teeth. He saw Hubert look up, mouth open to say something undoubtedly scathing, but nothing came out.

“Well?” Ferdinand said inarticulately through the ribbon. He combed his hands through his hair roughly, then took it all in one hand and started to tie it up. “You were in a dreadful hurry to speak with me. Though I know if I came to you smelling like horse, you would complain even more.”

Hubert closed his mouth with a snap. “I am not used to dealing with dawdling dullards,” he said. “Or ridiculous fops who take hours and cannot even do up their waistcoats.”

Ferdinand rolled his eyes at him. Well! He could have saved his breath, pouring his heart out to Astraea. Clearly any attraction to he felt could be quashed by Hubert himself. All it took was two minutes in proximity with his unpleasant temper. 

“Good morning to you as well, Hubert,” he said, almost slamming the door shut.

Hubert actually jerked at the noise and looked distinctly displeased to have done so. His expression darkened heavily at the smug look on Ferdinand’s face. 

“I do not think you understand the position you are in, Ferdinand,” he hissed, with enough dangerous intent that Ferdinand found his heart suddenly quickening, heat coiling tight in his gut. “While I am here, you are going to answer to _me._ ”

 _Goddess._ Ferdinand hoped he had not made a noise but could not have guaranteed it at that moment. 

“I mean, in my capacity as Her Majesty’s representative,” Hubert amended after a short pause.

“…right,” Ferdinand said, still feeling a little lightheaded. That low deep snarl in Hubert’s voice had gone straight to his cock. So much for any attraction being quashed. “Um. Is there something I can assist you with?”

“Yes,” Hubert said. “For starters, you can tell me why I am sleeping in your bed.”

Ferdinand fumbled his hair. “My bed! You are - uh - that is not -”

“Save it, Ferdinand,” Hubert said. “Come now, I know it has been years since we have seen each other but you cannot truly have thought I would not find out?”

“I was hoping it would take you more than ten hours,” groaned Ferdinand. “Especially since I thought you would have spent at least eight of those sleeping.”

Hubert actually laughed. It was a low, smooth sound. Ferdinand felt it like a stroke along his skin and it was over too soon. “I cannot remember the last time I spent eight hours sleeping,” he said scornfully. “I am giving you the benefit of the doubt, Ferdinand, because I found nothing in the room actually dangerous -”

“You searched the room?!” Ferdinand exclaimed. “ _All_ of it?” Of course, he should have known Hubert would do so eventually but he had still been hoping for an opportunity to slip in and remove anything embarrassing or incriminating. Like the entire contents of his nightstand. 

Hubert cleared his throat. “Just enough to ascertain that it was clearly not intended as a guest room,” he said, looking over Ferdinand’s shoulder. “But I want to know the meaning of all this, Ferdinand.”

Ferdinand winced. He had not been looking forward to this conversation at all. Hubert was not wrong; the decision to put him in Ferdinand’s own quarters had been made in the heat of the moment, the whirling space between finding Hubert at the door and taking his chest up the stairs himself. 

His rooms were the only decent suite left in Wildfall Court. The Bathsheba rooms were impossible. There was a bed in there only because it was missing half the slats and one of its four posts were tilting dangerously. The Frederick suite was filled with unusable odds and ends; Mrs. Brunhold had complained of a mouse infestation there only two weeks ago. The rooms that his father had occupied on his rare visits from Enbarr - Ferdinand made a face at the thought. Even if the rooms had been habitable - which they were not, they had been the first rooms Lady Aegir stripped for sale since the furnishings were excellent - the thought of Hubert in those rooms… it made something cold and dark rise in Ferdinand’s chest that he did not like. 

“They were the most suitable rooms in the house,” he said instead. “Well. They are certainly the most comfortable anyway, outside of the servants’ quarters.”

Hubert stilled completely. “This is an enormous house,” Hubert said. “What do you mean these are the only suitable rooms in it?”

“It did not make sense to try and keep up with the maintenance of this place, Hubert. It is only Lady Aegir and I here.” Ferdinand took a deep, steadying breath. Perhaps once, he had imagined inviting his classmates back here to Wildfall Court for visits after they were graduated. 

He would have opened the vaults of weaponry to Petra and Caspar, and waltzed down the long, sweeping ballrooms with Dorothea as the gold cornices frothed over them. He would have walked down the long hallway of Aegir portraiture with Edelgard and Lindhardt and protested their critiques of his ancestors’ features. He would have shown Bernadetta the long spindly library ladders, the safe shadowed corners filled with the smell of old books. 

He would have kissed Hubert under the trees, with the leaves rustling wave-like over them, the stars glinting between the bare tangle of branches.

It had been a foolish dream. That part of it would come true with Hubert’s arrival at Wildfall, years later and in this way. Ferdinand’s mouth twisted. 

“Anyway,” he said. “It is, by rights, Edelgard’s property now, I suppose. Perhaps I should have asked her permission before divesting the house, but she entrusted me as her steward and it did not make sense to keep all of this _stuff._ You cannot imagine how much this house held, Hubert. And so much of it so valuable, it did not make sense to hoard it when Aegir territory suffered such poor harvests at the outbreak of the war. Lady Aegir suggested we sell most of it and reinvest the profits into the estate and I agreed with her.”

“Her Majesty noted that she had been impressed by the amount Aegir territory was able to raise for the war funds,” Hubert said. “Was all of that -?”

“No, not all of it,” Ferdinand said. “The first year was bad though. All the uncertainty… I think it emboldened certain elements.” He swallowed. “My father was not universally popular as a governor.”

Hubert scoffed, “You don’t say.”

Ferdinand ignored that. He did not know how he felt about his father and he certainly did not intend to discuss any of it with Hubert. “Things have gotten better but with trade impacted by the war, the region is still unstable. Lady Aegir started with the furniture because it was clear we would never need it again. And most of the horses went to the front for the use of our calvary. We’ve put aside anything of cultural significance. After that, it seemed ridiculous to have a whole household full of servants to maintain empty rooms, especially when we have been short on people in the field.”

“This is what you have been doing for three years,” Hubert said.

Ferdinand flushed. Hubert was using a tone he could not place. “Yes. Lady Aegir has her own income from a trust my grandparents left her but she has always run the bulk of the estate while father was in Enbarr,” he looked away from Hubert, out of the window and at the trees his mother had grown, “but with the - changes, there was unrest. And her authority is, of course, uncertain now. The stewards Count Bergliez sent here.” He paused. 

_The men are worse than useless. They are not interested in the well-being of the region,_ Lady Aegir had written in her fine copperplate. And then, the next sentence, slightly shakier like she had dashed it off, slightly smeared like she had sealed the letter right after the writing of it, _They take liberties._

“Lady Aegir struggled with their presence,” Ferdinand finished. “And I agree with her, the decisions made were for more for the betterment of House Bergliez’s position than the people.”

“I did not hear of this,” Hubert said grimly.

“I do not think the noble houses have been in the habit of reporting to the Emperor frequently. And you can understand why Lady Aegir might be hesitant to bring particular attention to the region after,” Ferdinand fumbled. _My father’s arrest. His disgrace at your hands and Edelgard’s._ “I mean - the confusion around her title and her precise status since - I - Hubert, how should I address it with you? My father’s fall from power?”

“Is that the phrase you would like to use?” Hubert’s lips curled. “Why not employ something more direct? His dismissal from the office of Prime Minister and his imprisonment, at Her Majesty’s behest.”

“A bit long, do you not think so?” Ferdinand smiled mirthlessly as Hubert blinked at him. “But yes, I prefer it to the dancing around. His _arrest_ then, let us say. After my father’s arrest, Lady Aegir’s authority was naturally in question and as I say, the stewards Count Bergliez sent out did not suit. She requested that I return to administer to it. I am thankful Edelgard let me come, rather than send someone else in my stead. The amount of responsibility was substantial and there was not a lot of time to catch up.”

It had been almost crushing, in fact. Even thinking about it too long made his chest feel tight. The journey to Aegir, the way his carriage had been attacked three times, each by people who seemed more desperate than criminal. The villagers had eyed the Hresvelg Crest on his carriage with mute fury. The sodden fields of rotting wheat. The look on Lady Aegir’s face, the way his arrival on the doorstep of Wildfall Court cracked her composure like a stone against glass for just a moment. _They let you come back,_ she said. _I did not think they would._

But he had been so thankful for some clear thing to do. Away from the whispers and insinuations that had surrounded him in Enbarr. The only thing worse than the people who had become unfriendly were the ones who had become friendlier still.

“Why do you call her Lady Aegir?” Hubert asked suddenly.

“I - what?” The abrupt change of topic made Ferdinand blink. Hubert was studying him - had been doing so for some time, while Ferdinand had been folded in on his own memories. His green cat-eyes were fixed on Ferdinand in a way that made him suddenly very aware of the expressions that must have flitted over his face as he spoke.

“You mostly address your mother by Lady Aegir. I am curious about why.”

“I - I do not rightfully know, to tell you the truth. I have not - I lived in Enbarr with my father from the age of five to eleven. He did not address her by anything else and I - I suppose I fell in that same habit. And when I returned to Wildfall Court, it did not occur to me to change my mode of address and she did not ask me to.”

He looked at Hubert dubiously. It was a biological impossibility that Hubert did not have a mother yet it was still strange to imagine him with one. “How do you address your parents?”

“As little as possible,” Hubert said. Ferdinand had heard the rumours of the abrupt passing of the previous Marquis Vestra and so he stayed silent. After a moment, Hubert added, “My mother, she died when I was very young. I do not remember her.”

His face invited neither confidences nor condolences. “I am sorry,” Ferdinand said anyway, because he was.

He moved to stand closer to the desk, perching himself on the edge, leaning back to stretch his legs out. “Anyway, things have gotten easier here. I lend Lady Aegir Edelgard’s authority and she lends me her experience. I work with the land agents to oversee the day to day and she reviews the accounts. With the harvests in, I think the county will be in good shape but I would like to make sure that the preparation for winter ploughing goes well and that the crops are rotated properly. And seeing to repairs, of course! Those always fall by the wayside unless someone is keeping an eye on them - I must make our agents a list -”

“Wait, Ferdinand,” Hubert interrupted coolly. “I have not agreed to your month.”

“What!” Ferdinand protested, whirling on Hubert. Whatever he was about to say dried up as the full force of the picture Hubert made struck him in the throat. 

He made beauty seem banal. Hubert was seated behind Ferdinand’s desk, a scatter of his own maps and papers over the surface. His legs were splayed out, crossed lightly at the ankle and his arms were resting easily on the red velvet handles of the chair. He looked masterful behind the dark wood, the sun limning his head, throwing the dark waves into relief, shadowing the sharp hollows of his cheeks. 

“But last night,” Ferdinand said weakly. This was not the time to get distracted by how much space there was between the desk and the chair, just enough room for him to slide himself in there, between Hubert’s long, long legs.

“Last night I said nothing to prevent an awkward situation worsening,” Hubert said. “But I am not convinced we can spare the time.”

Ferdinand opened his mouth, ready to list all the absolutely imperative reasons it was necessary for the time to be spared. The fortification of the cottages for winter. The amount of preparation a transition of authority required. Edelgard’s responsibility to ensure the people of Aegir territory were well-cared for. What came out instead was, “What can I do to convince you?”

There it was. Hubert’s eyes darted once to Ferdinand’s mouth and he shifted in his chair as he said, “What do you mean?”

He was trying very hard not to read the implicit offer in Ferdinand’s question. Ferdinand was suddenly, giddily pleased he had not done up his waistcoat. He dropped the jacket he still carried onto the floor. Hubert’s eyes flickered down and there was a greedy light in them as his gaze went back up, dragged over Ferdinand’s body like he could not help it. Ferdinand felt that look like a hand on his cock.

Hubert wanted him. Ferdinand could read it in the colour rising in his long, slender throat. The way his hands were tightening on the armrests. Ferdinand only needed to take a step to his side, so close he could feel the heat of Hubert’s body through his jacket.

“It will be lambing season soon,” he said softly. “The shepherds are up all night, making sure mother and child survive the night. They do it in shifts and someone needs to make sure their schedules do not overwhelm them and they have enough food and drink to keep everyone going through their watch.”

He dropped to his knees before Hubert and could not hide the grin at the garbled sound Hubert let out of his throat. 

“The corn that was harvested needs threshing and bagging,” he continued, placing his hands gently on Hubert’s lean thighs. They were tense with muscle under his palm and Ferdinand had to fight down the urge to press his mouth needily to Hubert’s inner thigh. “The bulk of that corn is sent to the Imperial troops, but enough must be reserved to allow the county’s grain store to be replenished.”

Ferdinand looked up through his eyelashes, a look he had regularly seen Hilda use on as many people as required anything of her at Garreg Mach. None of them had ever given her the reaction Hubert did at Ferdinand’s attempt, eyes going huge, pupils blown wide. Ferdinand imagined he could feel the pulse thundering in Hubert’s throat as it did in his.

“It is all a significant amount of administrative and organizational work,” Ferdinand continued. “And the well-being of Aegir territory only speaks well of Her Majesty’s concern for its people, even while she worked to remove the corruption from her nobility.”

Hubert’s long fingers flexed and tightened as Ferdinand gave in, pressing a kiss to his inner thigh. “Give me a month, Hubert,” he breathed. “I would do anything.”

The look in Hubert’s eyes almost frightened him. Ferdinand supposed if he had any sense at all, he would have called it off, made a joke of it. But it was impossible, in between Hubert’s legs, pinned by the hunger in his gaze. Ferdinand felt himself going breathless, felt the uncomfortable way his pants tightened further, felt the way Hubert glanced down and noticed, the flush finally making its way to his pale cheeks. 

“‘Anything’,” Hubert repeated. His voice was remarkably steady for someone sporting an impressive erection.

“Yes, let me make sure the transition is smooth here,” Ferdinand barely knew what he was saying. “Let me accompany you back to Enbarr with whatever you need from the Aegir estate to replenish the treasury. And in the meantime, let me be entirely yours,” _to fuck, let me suck you, please Goddess, anything, I mean it._ He was leaking, lightheaded at the thought, “I mean - at your leisure.”

Hubert licked his lips, just the slightest movement of pink tongue sliding over his bottom lip. “That is a compelling argument,” he said, voice very low. “Ferdinand von Aegir, entirely at my disposal.”

“For a month,” repeated Ferdinand, because it was better than moaning aloud at the thought of what being at Hubert’s disposal meant.

“A month, of course.” Hubert looked down at the way his hands were tight on the arm-rests of the chair. Ferdinand watched as he very consciously relaxed his grip. “Very well.”

Ferdinand could barely believe his ears, could barely speak over the pounding of his heart, the mix of terror and exhilaration that filled his throat and tightened his nipples. Instead he rose up to kiss Hubert. There was no finesse to it, he was too desperate, opening his mouth under Hubert’s. He tasted Hubert’s stifled snarl and then Hubert had his hands fisted in the front of Ferdinand’s shirt, dragging him all the way up to his feet as Hubert surged against him, knocking him into the desk.

Hubert’s erection was pressed against him and Ferdinand ground up against it mindlessly, swallowing Hubert’s oath. His desk had been in the family for years. It had survived the Almyran invasion, it would surely survive Ferdinand sprawled on it, legs kicked apart, spread as wide as they would go for Hubert -

“Ferdinand - _fuck_ \- Ferdinand, wait -” 

There was no other way to describe the sound that came out of his throat as anything other than a whine. Hubert had stopped kissing him. Hubert was in fact pinning Ferdinand’s arms onto the desk so that Ferdinand could no longer paw at his coat, open his shirt to get at the pale skin of his chest. 

“Wait for what?” he panted, instead of giving Hubert the good old-fashioned murdering he deserved for stopping.

“You will have your month,” Hubert said. 

“Yes,” gasped Ferdinand, arching up against Hubert’s hands. “Yes, _thank you_ , Hubert -”

Oh, Hubert liked that. Ferdinand could tell he liked it very much indeed, his narrow hips surging forward automatically as Ferdinand had babbled his gratitude. Ferdinand groaned at the contact, breaking out of Hubert’s hands to sit up and press his eager mouth to the slip of Hubert’s throat that had been taunting him since he walked into the room. Hubert smelled bitter and astringently herbal, Ferdinand’s head spun with it.

“ _Ferdinand_ \- Saints -” Hubert pulled away again and Ferdinand whined, trying to follow him. Hubert put a quelling hand on his shoulder, even as he placed a finger against his lips, tracing Ferdinand’s mouth with his thumb and a shaky laugh. “You insatiable little slut. Goddess, the things I am going to do to you -”

Ferdinand whimpered, taking Hubert’s thumb in his mouth. Hubert’s breath stuttered again. This time, when he drew back, he took two long steps and, as a safeguard, put the chair between himself and Ferdinand.

Ferdinand considered it a truly unnecessary touch. “Hubert,” he said pleadingly, still panting for breath.

“No,” Hubert said. “I must write first. Make sure that the two of us can be spared for this long. Then,” his gaze flared with such hunger that heat pooled treacherously tight in Ferdinand’s stomach, “ _then_ , you at my leisure, at my disposal. _All_ of you. Are we agreed?”

Ferdinand had to close his own eyes as he nodded eagerly. If he spent too long looking at the way naked desire etched itself on Hubert’s elegant face, too long thinking about what Hubert meant to do to him, he was worried he would come right now, helplessly.

“Let us write it together now,” he said, slowly sitting up as his head swam at the sheer ridiculousness of what he had proposed, the sheer outrageousness of Hubert’s agreement. “I do not want you to change your mind. And do not forget to put in the bit about how short we are on qualified shepherds either. Actually, I can write that bit -”

***

The letter was written and Hubert pressed the Vestra signet ring into the wax, sealing it tightly. Ferdinand was still vibrating with barely suppressed desire. It could have been exhilaration, or it could have been terror. It was getting to be difficult to differentiate between the two. He did know he was still extremely hard though. Hubert’s long fingers gripping the quill so tightly it snapped in half as Ferdinand nosed at the tender skin between his jaw and throat. Tasting Hubert’s growl as Ferdinand had tried to kiss him in the middle of a sentence. Ferdinand wanted those strong, slender fingers tight in his hair; wanted to feel the way that growl would travel along the soft skin of his -

“Are you going? You are the one who insisted on bringing it to my coachwoman yourself,” Hubert said.

Ferdinand blinked. He had the letter in his hand, yes. And he had insisted on being the one to bring it to Pomona because he wasn’t sure Hubert wouldn’t come to his senses and throw it into the fire. Also, Ferdinand planned to bribe her. 

“Well, yes! I will bring it to Pomona directly,” he said. “But in the meanwhile, I thought you wanted to take this to…”

Hubert followed his glance towards the bedroom. When he looked back at Ferdinand, his expression flickered and then he was smiling. It was not a tender smile. Ferdinand felt himself going breathless at the sharp, cruel curve of it. “Look at you,” Hubert murmured and he tilted Ferdinand’s chin up with one finger. “Completely shameless.”

He leaned in, so close that Ferdinand could feel Hubert’s breath on his lips when he next spoke. It was all he could do not to let his eyes shut and close the distance. “Take that letter, Ferdinand,” he said. “I do not plan to touch you until I am able to give you your month.”

“Hnnngh,” Ferdinand said intelligently. The next thing he knew, he was outside the office, in the hall. The door locked behind him. Ferdinand ground his teeth. He was fairly certain he knew exactly what Hubert was doing in there after hustling him out so quickly. 

It took everything in him not to do the same thing, simply lean back against the door and shove his hand into his trousers. Thinking of Hubert thinking of him -

Ferdinand pulled himself together with every inch of his not inconsiderable willpower. House Aegir might currently be in a diminished condition but that was no reason for him to touch himself outside in the hallway where anyone could see his desperate state. If Hubert would only touch him once they knew he had his month, perhaps he had better increase his offer to Pomona. 

She was in the kitchen, helping Mrs. Brunhold peel potatoes. Ferdinand passed her the letter and five hundred gold, ignoring her raised eyebrows. “More if you beat the mail coach there and back,” he said. 

“Alright then!” Pomona said cheerfully, and leapt to her feet. Good woman, thought Ferdinand approvingly. A real go-getter.

Mrs. Brunhold sniffed meaningfully in the direction of the half-peeled potatoes. With a sigh, Ferdinand took up the knife Pomona had clattered onto the table and began peeling.

***

He found his mother in the Wilhemina parlour. Lady Aegir was standing before the cabinets, surrounded by crates, and there was a pile of cotton and rope at her feet.

Ferdinand dimly remembered being very small and unable to enter the Wilhemina parlour without covering his eyes. It was papered in cream and shining grey stripe, with the Grand Service in full display. Against the dark mahogany shelving, the plates in their glistening lustre looked like captured moons. On a summer day, with the fine lawn curtains pulled back, the sun streamed in, clinking against those shining surfaces and throwing shimmering flickers of light on the ceiling. Ferdinand remembered a butler - had his name been Abendroth? -whose sole purpose in the house seemed to be keeping the silverware in a state of high gleam, a role he took seriously. 

Perhaps his heart would break seeing it now. Once the Aegir Grand Service had been blinding; now a thick patina covered every tureen, every ice pail, every candelabra, every sauceboat. Lady Aegir’s thick cotton gloves already bore smudged black marks as the tarnish came off in her hands, and her sleeves were covered in dust. Before he was twenty-one years old, Ferdinand had never seen his mother do anything in the house more strenuous than wave at something she wanted removed. 

Now she was packing up items of the Grand Service with her own hands, a task that Mrs. Brunhold herself might only have supervised back when she had a small battalion of servants to command. Lady Aegir carefully wiped each piece with a cloth, and then swaddled it in cotton and tied neatly with rope, before gently placing it into the box.

“You do not need to do that,” Ferdinand said. “Not immediately, I mean.”

Lady Aegir turned towards him, eyebrows arching upwards. “You do not have to go away after all?” she said. 

“No,” Ferdinand said, and for the first time, the enormity of what he had promised Hubert started to crash in on him. “Hubert and I - er - came to an agreement. He has written to Edelgard to see if I can have a month after all. I can oversee the ploughing for the spring crop and finish the scheduling for lambing. I will make a list of the accumulated repairs we should have seen to now that there is a bit more time in the day - oh! And -”

Lady Aegir raised her hand, a habitual gesture that he had hated as a child newly returned from Enbarr. The first time he had leapt out of the carriage and run towards her, only to be stopped by that quelling palm. Now, he knew it only meant she needed time to think, and he obediently fell silent.

“Wait, Ferdinand,” she said, slowly. “So you do not need to leave immediately. That is good news. How did you manage that?” 

“Uh,” Ferdinand said.

Lady Aegir looked at him and her forehead wrinkled. “Do you have a fever?”

“I? Certainly not, you know I am as healthy as a horse!” Ferdinand sputtered. He felt absolutely no desire at all to explain the reason for Hubert’s sudden acquiescence to his mother. 

Lady Aegir frowned, studying him. ”Should we arrange for the Service to be forwarded to Enbarr?” she said eventually. “I thought you raised a good point yesterday. It is not wise for Marquis Vestra to return with it by himself, without some kind of guard.”

"Oh! He is not returning directly to Enbarr,” Ferdinand said. “His coachwoman is gone now and she will bring Edelgard’s response back.” Quickly, he hoped. “In the meantime, I thought to show him around the estate.”

“He is not leaving?” Lady Aegir said.

“Uh,” Ferdinand said. “No. Perhaps we could show him around the estate together? Hubert has Edelgard’s ear, you know, and I want to give him a sense of the needs of Aegir territory. I am hoping that he will agree to you remaining its steward in the meantime, or at least having a say in which land agents we hire. We should discuss what comes after I go -”

“He is not leaving,” repeated Lady Aegir, glaring down at the plate she still held in her hands. “And you are babbling. I understand he is enormously busy with Her Majesty’s ear so why exactly is he staying here for a month? And why is your face burning up like that? _Ferdinand._ ”

“It - I - you know that it is impossible that I be taken - that is, leave! On such short notice!” Ferdinand said. “I cannot leave on such short notice. Aegir territory is still in a vulnerable state and I want its people -”

“I was at dinner yesterday, Ferdinand,” Lady Aegir said. “I am very well-aware of why more time is needed. What I want to understand now is where, in the curriculum of your _numerous_ tutors in diplomacy, politics, and law, did _carnal relationships_ come up as a method of persuasion?”

“Hubert and I came to an understanding, that is all!” Ferdinand said. “A mutually beneficial agreement! I did it for the good of our people!”

“Do not put the blame for this on the people of Aegir territory,” Lady Aegir said. “If there is blame to be had, it should be on me. No, in truth, I blame Ludwig. I always told him that small children should not be going to every opera performance they wished.” 

“Perhaps you could have seen to that yourself, madam!” snapped Ferdinand and immediately wished he had not.

Lady Aegir wore dark grey everyday. It was not mourning, exactly, since his father was still alive. Or perhaps she had simply started putting away her light clothes as she began to empty the house and turned the servants off. Dark colours did not show wear so clearly but they were not flattering on Lady Aegir. It threw her deep red hair and its creeping silver into sharp relief. It made clear her sudden pallor.

They had never spoken of her absence in Ferdinand’s life while he had been in Enbarr with his father. When he returned to Aegir, his mother had been punctilious in her care of him. Ferdinand had the best teachers and trainers, he had his horses, and he saw her three times a day for their meals. Now his mother was a trusted colleague. Ferdinand thought he had long put away a young boy’s hurt caused by a woman who clearly had no idea she was causing it. 

“I should return to packing,” Lady Aegir said. Her eyes were dry as she lifted them to Ferdinand’s. “A month, after all, is not such a long time. Thank you for letting me know, Ferdinand.”

“I - of course,” Ferdinand said. His mother turned away from him, lifting a tall candelabrum. As he closed the door, he watched Lady Aegir run a finger gently down the line of grey ivy writhing along its length, before wrapping the piece up and trussing it tight as a throat.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to [qwertyuiop678](https://archiveofourown.org/users/qwertyuiop678/pseuds/qwertyuiop678) for listening to all my yelling and whose writing always serves as a shining example of dirty talk. [do yourself a favour,](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28414377) content-warning _harry potter roleplay sex_
> 
> and another thank you to [Elasmosaurus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elasmosaurus) for good-naturedly answering all horf related inquiries no matter how silly. ("how do you tell a girl horse from a boy horse?")
> 
> also huge scream, please check out this [absolutely stunning piece of fanart](https://twitter.com/skipdivide_/status/1342835559845212162/photo/1) by [skipdivide_](https://twitter.com/skipdivide_) (depiction of NSFW scene but picture itself is SFW)
> 
> i am tentatively figuring out twitter now so come yell with me! preferably not at me, but you do you. @feather_hearted
> 
> content warnings: dirty talk. so much dirty talk, mild humiliation kink, blowjobs, nipple play, d/s, orgasm control.
> 
> other content warnings: um, mildly awkward social situations galore? parental trolling.

“You’re back suspiciously quick,” Hubert said. He was by the stables. Pomona had ridden in just after sunset. Hubert had had seen the little lantern she hung from her belt flashing through the trees from Ferdinand’s large office window and came down to intercept her before anyone else noted her arrival.

“It’s amazing how much faster mail travels when you’ve been lent a good horse and given some gold to start,” Pomona said. “And promised an extra five hundred on return.”

“I told you three hundred,” Hubert said, snatching the letter with the distinctive Hresvelg Crest out of her hand. Somewhat begrudgingly, he also opened his pouch and shook out the coin into her waiting palm.

“ _You_ told me three hundred, yes,” Pomona said, tossing her head as she led the horse away to be groomed.

Hubert had let Ferdinand give Pomona the letter but she was too canny to rush off without Hubert’s confirmation. Whatever she thought of the whole thing, she kept it to herself and moreover, set off immediately after. Hubert had watched her leave the same window, bent low over one of Ferdinand’s horses. Horse and rider winked around the bend and were gone. She would be significantly quicker than any mail coach. Hubert had anticipated Lady Edelgard’s response in a few days.

Now it was in his hand. Hubert waited a heartbeat before breaking open the seal.

It was terse:

_Dear Marquis Vestra,_

_General Ferdinand von Aegir’s request for additional leave has been granted. Please maintain a copy of this letter as its confirmation. General Ferdinand von Aegir’s presence is expected in Enbarr, or wheresoever his posting shall be, by the twenty-second day of the Guardian Moon. In the event of delays, both anticipated and otherwise, you are responsible for forwarding reasons for such promptly._

_Attached is a copy of the relevant statute._

_Emperor Edelgard von Hresvelg_

It was signed by her secretary. Hubert took the pages of carefully copied legal statute and held them over his open palm. A bright flame sparked in the centre of his hand. Hubert turned the pages over and smiled as Lady Edelgard’s small, neat writing began to appear. 

_My dear Hubert,_

_I received your joint petition - I presume the rather more frantic paragraphs were Ferdinand’s unless your writing and method of expression have changed significantly and you have suddenly developed an interest in lambing? To be frank, your absence in Enbarr is sorely missed and at first, I was not sure of the wisdom of your remaining in Aegir territory._

_Looking into the information you passed along however, it seems your suspicions were correct. The men sent by House Bergliez came highly recommended by Lord Arundel. Of course, he knew any open attempt to expand in House Aegir’s territory would be immediately thwarted. So he sought to do it in the way he knows best, behind our backs and through the assistance of weaker, greedier men to lend him countenance._

_I do not believe that the men sent by Count Bergliez were anything other than human but it would be for the best if we do not allow any further openings for Arundel and his associates._

_It is lucky that Ferdinand was called back when he was. Aegir territory is too large, too rich - if my uncle or his agents should have command of it. I will not think it, for it will not happen. Ferdinand has requested that his mother remain the Crown’s steward in Aegir until his return. I think it reasonable. Aegir territory has been steady under her hand and Ferdinand’s, but will defer to your judgement on the lady for this._

_I do not need to tell you - or Ferdinand, hopefully - that this does not change my plans for the redistribution of the land. My legacy will not be the system of nobility still intact. If you think Lady Aegir unlikely to go quietly, you must let me know and we shall decide what to do about that._

_Do not take any steps on this without my specific say-so, Hubert. Perhaps it does not sway you much but I find I do not have the stomach to deprive Ferdinand of a mother, as well as a father, without good reason._

_I have also had Lady Aegir looked into as you requested, but there not seem to be any more than what you already know. One of Ludwig von Aegir’s guards was able to get this much out of him: “Cold, nasty woman, all she cares about are those damn pegasi she’s too big to ride.”_

_So, there you are, I suppose._

_Keep your eye on her in the meanwhile and please do assist Ferdinand in ensuring Aegir territory is left in a strong enough position to prevent our friends from any further attempts to secure a foothold. Also for the wellbeing of its people, of course - I do not require any reminder on that front, especially one accompanied by fifteen exclamation points._

_Be well, old friend. I will not tell you to be careful, as I know you always are. I look forward to seeing yourself and Ferdinand soon._

_E._

Hubert read the letter twice, committing it to memory before crumpling it up in his hand and setting it alight. He shook the ashes into the dirt and ground them down with his foot, then headed back into the house. 

_I will not tell you to be careful, as I know you always are._

Lady Edelgard’s words rang ironically. This agreement with Ferdinand was the most outrageous, incautious thing he had done in his life. There was no way to justify it in service to Lady Edelgard’s cause. In fact, Hubert was uncomfortably sure that if Lady Edelgard ever found out about it, Hubert would have to throw himself off a cliff before she came after him, Aymr swinging. 

He ought to just call the whole thing off. There were at least thirty excellent reasons, not least of which was his gross abuse of the power Lady Edelgard had entrusted to him. The foundations of Ferdinand’s world had crumbled to their ambitions. Hubert could not bring himself to regret the cost but the amount of power he now held over Ferdinand sat uneasily upon him. Hubert’s position as Lady Edelgard’s advisor was unimpeachable; all it would take was a word in the right ear and Ferdinand’s future was forfeit, slowly or quickly as he saw fit.

Ferdinand surely knew that as well. He had read Hubert’s desire so clearly, offered himself in tribute to it in exchange for time. No honourable man would have taken Ferdinand’s offer. Except.

Ferdinand pressing a kiss to his thigh. 

It had ignited against Hubert’s skin even through the woollen material of his trousers. It burned every thought out of his head.

_Let me be entirely yours._

Of course, Ferdinand had qualified that immediately with a time frame but it had been enough to break Hubert’s resolve. His thoughts were looping and looping in endless variations of golden skin and soft lips and bright, bright hair. Ferdinand’s eyes, the colour of honey, everything about him warm and sweet. He looked like he would melt on Hubert’s tongue and Hubert wanted, beyond reason, to test that.

Ferdinand standing too close to him in argument, breathing too heavily for anger. Ferdinand with his shirt half done, pulling his hair up. Ferdinand on his knees, staring up at Hubert, hands tight on his thighs. Ferdinand at his leisure, at his pleasure. All his, the ability to tangle his hands into that red gold river whenever he wanted, bite marks of ownership into Ferdinand’s skin, make him fall apart in Hubert’s lap.

It would be the first thing Hubert consciously took for himself in fourteen years since he had dedicated himself to Lady Edelgard’s vengeance. It should have been the last thing he ever chose to do. But.

Ferdinand’s mouth opening greedily under his, hard as iron just from being on his knees before Hubert. Ferdinand arching up desperately under Hubert’s hands, legs spreading automatically as he pressed in. Ferdinand, pulling Hubert’s finger into his mouth, curling his tongue around it, inviting Hubert to push inside as far as he wanted.

Hubert kept his word, however difficult it was. He didn’t touch Ferdinand. And oh, how clear it was that Ferdinand wanted him to. That was the part that kept his hand in the fire, even as his sanity turned to ashes in the flame.

Stretching out Ferdinand’s anticipation like skin over a rack was its own intense pleasure. Walking through the emptied rooms of Wildfall Court, the way Ferdinand’s body jerked when Hubert brushed against him, deliberate and chaste, a shoulder as they met in the doorway, fingers as they reached for wine at the same time. The way Ferdinand’s breath hitched when he caught Hubert looking, his eyes going wide and dark each time as colour rushed to his face. The way he kept staring at Hubert in turn, biting his lip like he was swallowing back his own pleading. 

Hubert wanted to grab him, shake the dreamy, desiring look off his face. The past seven days had been torture, the most exquisite sort Hubert had ever experienced. 

And now they were at their end. Hubert’s hand tightened on the letter. He should give this to Ferdinand, along with his month, free of strings. Keep an eye on Lady Aegir, instead of her son.

“Hubert!” Ferdinand came thundering up, hair flying loose. “I found Pomona in the kitchen and she told me that she had given you Edelgard’s letter! Well? What does it say?”

He stopped in front of him, breathing heavily, his face was still flushed and eager and Hubert found he could not say anything. He thrust the letter into Ferdinand’s hand. Ferdinand eyed him uncertainly, evidently unable to tell from Hubert’s face whether it was good news or bad and unfolded it himself. 

Hubert watched his eyes move down the paper and told himself there was still time. Lay his desire bare to Ferdinand and let him choose to take it without barter or bargain. Ferdinand looked up and smiled at him, and just like that, Hubert’s good intentions dissolved in the heat of his gaze. 

“This is good news, indeed,” Ferdinand purred, tucking his arm through Hubert’s. “Would you come to the office with me so we can discuss it?”

Hubert closed his eyes and let himself be pulled along. A month, then, to burn this foolish, overwhelming hunger out of him. 

***

Ferdinand was strangely quiet as they walked through the house but he never let go of Hubert. In fact, Hubert could feel his fingers pressing into his arm firmly. Perhaps his grip would leave marks, the first of many. Hubert shuddered at the thought. 

He had only been here a week but already the house was beginning to feel familiar even in the almost-dark. So he was the one who pulled ahead slightly, unwilling to wait any longer. He lit the candles in the office with a snap of his fingers. The click of the lock on the office door was very loud as Hubert slid it close, and then he pushed Ferdinand up against it. 

Ferdinand swallowed at the sudden movement but his face as he looked up at Hubert - his stomach swooped at the sight. Ferdinand’s eyes were all pupil, and the colour was high in his cheeks as he clutched Hubert’s narrow hips, pulling him closer. His mouth was already parted and when Hubert kissed him, Ferdinand moaned happily, opening his mouth to Hubert’s onslaught.

“Goddess, Hubert,” he gasped. “This week has been _torture._ ”

“Tell me,” Hubert said, pulling away to tear at Ferdinand’s cravat, pull it open and bite at his throat. He wanted, desperately, to hear Ferdinand admit to being in the same sorry condition as Hubert himself, distracted as much as he was distracting.

Ferdinand only moaned and his fingers scrabbled at Hubert’s high collar. Hubert felt a button go flying and Ferdinand made a noise of satisfaction. Hubert pulled away.

“I think you heard me, Ferdinand,” he hissed, pinning Ferdinand’s arms down to his side as he licked a stripe down Ferdinand’s ear. “Now, what did I say?”

“Nngh,” Ferdinand said. “W-what do you want me to tell you?” He could easily break free from Hubert’s hold. Hubert was lean and strong from training drills but he was still a magic user. Ferdinand was bulkier, his arms developed from heavy lances. But he didn’t struggle and Hubert could feel Ferdinand’s cock against him, only getting more and more interested in the proceedings.

When he was sure Ferdinand was going to stay, Hubert tangled a hand in Ferdinand’s hair, tugging his head back and baring his throat. Ferdinand groaned aloud.

“Tell me about this torturous week of yours,” Hubert said. He shoved his thigh between Ferdinand’s legs but moved back as Ferdinand tried to rub up against him. “Now, now, none of that until you tell me what I want to know.”

“You - you -” Ferdinand whined. “You were there, Hubert. You could see it, I know you could.”

“See what, Ferdinand?” Hubert breathed. He smiled as Ferdinand tried to squirm closer. “I am beginning to think you don’t want it as badly as I assumed this desperate little display to the contrary. I want to hear it from you, what could I clearly see?”

“Goddess,” gasped Ferdinand. “Every time you looked at me, it was all I could do not to get on my knees.”

Hubert had to close his eyes as another shudder of desire washed over him. Pulling that confession from Ferdinand’s wet, red lips - it was almost too much -

“You - you could see how much I wanted this,” Ferdinand whispered, “how much much I wanted you. How I spent every night unable to t-think of anything else -”

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” said Hubert. Ferdinand tried to kiss him and Hubert allowed it for a second, let Ferdinand taste his hunger as Hubert tangled his tongue with his. Then he pulled away and couldn’t help but laugh as Ferdinand whined at the loss, trying to arch up into Hubert’s thigh. 

“Tell me about your nights,” he said, tightening his hand in Ferdinand’s hair as he breathed the order into Ferdinand’s throat. “Do it, Ferdinand.”

***

Ferdinand’s head was spinning. The dark look in Hubert’s eyes, the way he leveraged his height to loom over Ferdinand. Hubert growled and his hand tightened in Ferdinand’s hair and Ferdinand groaned aloud. The _demand_ , that little frisson of pain, it sang through him.

For seven days, and before that, if Ferdinand was going to be honest with himself, his imagination had been filled with images of sharp green eyes pinning him in place. A dark head moving down his body with slow, dangerous intent. Long, pale fingers sliding into his mouth and clutching bruises onto his hips as he was filled and fucked, gloriously, and a thin, curving, cruel smile throughout it all. It was one thing to desire Hubert so overwhelmingly, another thing completely to say it aloud. A wave of embarrassment washed over him and outrageously, his cock twitched with it. Ferdinand whined, “Hubert, I - please, just let me-” 

“If I have to ask again, I will not be pleased, Ferdinand,” Hubert warned and the kiss to Ferdinand’s neck became a bite. Ferdinand was so hard he was afraid he would drip through his trousers.

“I - I _can’t_ -”

“Yes, you can, Ferdinand,” Hubert’s voice was dangerous. “Or have you forgotten our terms? All of you, at my leisure, at my disposal.”

Hearing it like that, Hubert’s smooth voice tight with something Ferdinand felt burning low in his own gut made him gasp and give in. 

“I - every night I touched myself to thoughts of you,” he admitted and was rewarded with a pinch at his peaked nipple. Ferdinand’s hips jerked, and he couldn’t tell if it was the sensation or the sight of Hubert’s thin delighted smile. “Hubert - _ah_ -”

“Go on,” Hubert said, as he unbuttoned Ferdinand’s shirt fully, sliding it down his shoulders so Ferdinand’s arms were trapped to his side while his chest was bared to Hubert’s hungry gaze. Ferdinand keened again as Hubert dipped his head down, flicking at Ferdinand’s nipple with his tongue. “Tell me more.”

It was too much, he couldn’t. Then, Hubert nipped him, teeth closing on the sensitive peak, and Ferdinand found he could, after all, say anything to keep Hubert going. 

“I - I would slide my fingers into myself,” Ferdinand whispered and Hubert hissed around his mouthful. “Imagining I was preparing myself for you and you were watching me, legs spread for you -”

Hubert groaned against Ferdinand’s chest and his other hand came up to pinch his nipple, sending another spike of pleasure through Ferdinand. He had never spent overlong touching his chest and was beginning to realize that had been a grievous mistake. Even so, Ferdinand doubted he would ever be able to replicate the dizzying sensations of Hubert’s fingertips and tongue. 

“I want - Hubert, I want your cock inside me so badly I can barely breathe for it,” babbled Ferdinand, “I wanted to suck you, Hubert, Goddess, I came to the thought of my mouth full of you.”

“Very good, Ferdinand,” Hubert said breathlessly. Ferdinand realized with another hot, exhilarating wave of humiliation that the mewling sound was coming from him. His hips had bucked at _very good_ , said in Hubert’s low voice fraying around the edges. It made everything in him feel hot and molten.

Hubert rose to kiss the side of Ferdinand’s jaw and his hand slid down to cup Ferdinand’s cock. “Very good,” he repeated, and Ferdinand whined again as Hubert’s hand tightened around him. “Look at me, Ferdinand.”

Breathing shakily, Ferdinand did so, working to keep his hips still, to not to chase the pressure of Hubert’s fingers. It was not a successful effort. He blinked his hazy eyes, once, twice, trying to focus on Hubert. Hubert’s other hand went to Ferdinand’s lips and traced the line of Ferdinand’s open, wet mouth. He looked down at Ferdinand and smiled. 

“From now on, I’m the only one who touches you,” Hubert said and Ferdinand was nodding frantically at the dark tone of his voice before the words even registered. “You have your month and I will have this. All of you, just like we agreed. You don’t come without my permission.”

It appeared that Ferdinand’s instinct towards self-preservation had been drowned in a flood of arousal. The thought of being under Hubert’s control to this extent should have been horrifying. Instead he only moaned aloud, “Yes, Hubert, _yes_ \- all yours,” as the hot feeling in his chest intensified. 

“What a mess you are,” Hubert said but there was a slight shakiness in his voice. Ferdinand flicked his tongue out, trying to draw Hubert’s fingers into his mouth and was rewarded by a sharp intake of air. The pressure increased deliciously on his cock.

Then Hubert’s hands were on Ferdinand’s shoulders, pushing him downwards. 

***

Ferdinand went to his knees willingly. His honeyed eyes went heavy-lidded as he leaned forward, drawn as inexorably as if there was a leash around his throat. Ferdinand licked his lips and Hubert swallowed audibly as he started to undo his trousers. Ferdinand was moaning before he got Hubert’s pants open, mouthing greedily at his cock. 

Hubert couldn’t take his eyes off Ferdinand, didn’t think it was possible to do so. He fought to keep his hips from thrusting upwards into Ferdinand’s seeking mouth. Ferdinand’s clear desire dizzied him. The way he eagerly filled his mouth with Hubert’s cock as if he had never wanted anything as much, the sounds he made as Hubert dug his hands into long auburn waves, the flush that burned over him like a beacon. 

The words were pulled from his throat; he couldn’t have stopped himself if he tried, “ _Fuck_ yes, Ferdinand, your mouth feels amazing. Look at you, on your knees, taking it so well.”

Ferdinand groaned, licking a wet stripe up the underside of Hubert’s cock. He kept alternating between wet, open-mouthed kisses along Hubert’s shaft, swirling his tongue around the head of Hubert’s cock, and taking him in entirely. The noises he made as he hollowed his cheeks made Hubert’s head spin. The way he was unabashedly -

“- _worshipping_ my cock,” came out of Hubert’s mouth before he realized what he was saying. Instead of pulling away at this minor blasphemy, Ferdinand pressed forward with a little whimper. “Fuck, you love the idea, don’t you? Look at you, so pretty like this with my cock down your throat just like you dreamed -”

Hubert’s cock was nowhere near Ferdinand’s throat currently but that wasn’t stopping Ferdinand from giving it his best shot. Hubert braced himself against the door as Ferdinand’s fingers flexed against his thighs. Ferdinand was holding him so tightly he would have bruises there. The thought made his hips jerk forward and Ferdinand had to pull back with a gagging noise. Hubert found himself stroking his hair, gentling him as he murmured, “My sweet, greedy thing, so beautifully eager for me -”

Ferdinand pulled off Hubert’s cock with an obscene sound. “Hubert, please,” he panted. “Let me touch myself, please -”

Saints, it was easy to get addicted to Ferdinand von Aegir begging him for permission. Face even more beautiful in desperation, shameless with need. Ferdinand barely waited for Hubert’s nod before he was undoing his pants, palming himself with a whimper of relief, the heat of his breath making Hubert’s cock twitch. Hubert twined his free hand into his long, beautiful hair again. It was like coarse silk winding between his fingers and Hubert couldn’t resist another hard tug. Ferdinand whined for more because of course he did. This could no longer be real life, this was a ridiculous fever dream of Hubert’s where a man like Ferdinand von Aegir wanted his blackened hands in his sunset hair and was on his knees before him and moaning around Hubert’s cock because he wanted to be -

“Yes,” panted Hubert. His hand was still fisted in Ferdinand’s long, red hair but it wasn’t to force Ferdinand’s face any further down his cock. Hubert wasn’t sure that was physically possible any longer, Ferdinand’s nose was almost buried in his dark curls. “Fuck, yes, Ferdinand, you’re such a good cocksucker, so good for me, my glorious boy -”

Ferdinand made a guttural sound. Hubert looked down, ready to drag himself back if it was too much. Ferdinand’s eyelids fluttered and he made another desperate noise. Hubert realised Ferdinand was coming, making a mess of himself with Hubert’s cock in his throat, Hubert’s voice in his ears. 

Hubert pulled himself out just enough to get his own hand around himself, pulling once, twice, before frantically spilling into Ferdinand’s slack, wet mouth. He clutched the wall as Ferdinand moaned inarticulately, licking at Hubert’s come dripping from his lips. Hubert hissed at the sight, the throb of arousal almost painful through his spent cock. 

His knees were watery. Hubert sunk down in front of Ferdinand, kissing him frantically, not minding the bitter taste of himself on Ferdinand’s mouth. Ferdinand kissed him back, still shivering from his own high. Hubert was beginning to lose himself again in this new and surprising sweetness of Ferdinand post-orgasm, as he twined himself around Hubert like a seeking vine. Then Ferdinand made a distinctively displeased noise and pulled away.

“My pants,” he said, making a face.   


***

Ferdinand winced as he started to get up, casually putting a hand on Hubert’s shoulder to steady himself. “Good heavens,” he said, stumbling a little as he got to his feet. “Well! That was certainly overwhelming.”

It sounded foolish the moment it left his mouth and the feeling was not helped by Hubert’s expression. But Ferdinand could find no other way to describe the unsteadiness in the aftermath of desperation like he’d never felt, the culmination of a dream he’d never dared articulate to himself until Hubert had looked down at him, wetting his lower lip slightly, and whispered, _Anything?_

Hubert still knelt before Ferdinand, looking up at him like a knight about to swear fealty to an unimpressive monarch. Ferdinand offered him a hand, which he ignored as he rose, tucking himself away. Then Hubert pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at Ferdinand’s cheeks and chin where evidence of their activities still lingered. 

Ferdinand was smiling before he could help himself. “Thank you, Hubert,” he said demurely. As if Hubert had handed him a cup of his favourite tea, rather than wiped semen and saliva off his curving mouth. He wanted to kiss Hubert on the cheek but somehow, that felt more intimate than absolutely everything else they had done, up to and including coming with Hubert’s cock in his mouth.

“You should change,” Hubert said, looking away from Ferdinand’s face and down at his stained and crumpled trousers.

“Right! Yes.” Too eager to get away from the awkward warmth in his chest, Ferdinand turned towards the door that connected the office to his quarters, forgetting that he absolutely did not what Hubert to see -

“Void take me,” Hubert said. “What _happened_ in here?”

“Oh,” said Ferdinand in a small voice. “You were not supposed to see this.”

It wasn’t that bad, really. Yes, there was a small pile of ledgers and notebooks tangled up in the pile of blankets dumped haphazardly on the floor. Yes, the couch was tilting a little because Ferdinand had rolled over too heavily in the night. Probably Ferdinand could have hung up his clothes and taken the dirty cups back to the kitchen instead of festooning several crates with them. 

“Tidiness has never been my strong suit, you remember,” Ferdinand said. “It looks worse than it is. Mrs. Brunhold just has not been by yet.”

Hubert kicked the couch and it groaned, pitching forward. Ferdinand bit back a yelp. “Is your housekeeper also a carpenter? Saints, Ferdinand. This is ridiculous.”

“Well, what did you expect, Hubert?” Anger and embarrassment curdled in Ferdinand’s stomach as he shucked his pants off. “Did you think I was living in luxury here while the war went on? It is not as if I really deprived myself! You are sleeping in my quarters, they are perfectly comfortable.”

Ferdinand had to hunt amongst the clothes on his floor for another pair of trousers and saw the way Hubert glanced at him, then looked away. Why couldn’t he have at least folded them? “I just did not expect any of you would ever visit after my father’s arrest!” Ferdinand exclaimed. The words came out ringing with more hurt than he expected. Ferdinand grit his teeth, annoyed with himself, and started to do up his trousers, back to Hubert.

“Ferdinand.” Hubert sounded more uncertain than Ferdinand had ever heard him. “I - that is not what I.”

Ferdinand stole a look over his shoulder. Hubert was still looking at the wall and he was frowning, picking his next few words with care. 

“I did not mean to insult you,” he said finally. “Only, it is not right that you should be sleeping like this while I occupy your bed and your office. There is enough space in there for both of us, after all.”

Ferdinand blinked in disbelief. “You… want to sleep in the same bed?”

“Or we can exchange sleeping arrangements,” Hubert said quickly. “I am well-accustomed to being able to sleep in any condition.” Evidently unable to restrain himself, he added, “Even ones as… rustic as this.”

He scowled as Ferdinand stared at him, crossing his arms over his chest. His cheeks were pink, Ferdinand realized with a rush of something that felt dangerously like affection. “Hm,” he said, and went to the couch, kicking the same leg Hubert had. Outraged at the uncivil treatment, the couch collapsed entirely, with a wheeze and a groan. 

“I suppose it is impossible for either of us to sleep on it now.” Ferdinand grinned at the look on Hubert’s face. “I will have to accept your kind offer, Hubert.”

Hubert stared as Ferdinand crossed the room, drawing him down for a kiss that he turned filthy, licking into Hubert’s mouth languorously. “After all, it will be much easier for me to be entirely at your disposal that way, whenever you want me, do you not think so?”

***

Hubert expected to be smothered during the night. As they dropped off to sleep, Ferdinand had nudged him onto his side and buried his nose into the base of Hubert’s skull, draping an arm over him. Hubert told himself he was simply too tired to argue, so he dropped off with Ferdinand’s breathing against his shoulder. Even another vigorously filthy bout - this time, Hubert sucking Ferdinand off, not letting him come until Ferdinand had no words left, only mindless whimpering and a long wail when Hubert had finally taken pity on him - could not stop Hubert from bolting awake in the middle of the night. He winced as he realized where he was and who he was with, not looking forward to anxious questions or irritation at being disturbed. 

Instead Ferdinand simply flopped over and continued sleeping. Hubert sat up a little longer, watching Ferdinand’s peaceful face in the darkness until he decided he was creeping even himself out. He turned over, trying not to notice the way he shuffled his back against Ferdinand’s, and let himself be lulled back to sleep by Ferdinand’s little snorts. The next time he woke up, the room was dark and the bed was empty.

Hubert lay back and let the panic spike, then go. Once it had, he could hear the sound of rustling in the next room. It was evidently someone trying to be quiet for the first time in a long while. “Ouch,” he heard Ferdinand mutter as he stumbled against something.

“I am awake,” Hubert announced. 

“Oh, I apologize, I did not mean to disturb you,” Ferdinand said, sounding genuinely sorry. His dark shape loomed in the doorway between the office and the bedroom. “I was just trying to get dressed for my morning ride.”

Hubert got out of bed. He certainly wasn’t going to be getting more sleep and felt unnaturally well-rested, the usual interruptions to his night notwithstanding. Or maybe it was just that Ferdinand was standing there in his slim-fitting jodhpurs and riding boots, and Hubert could see the bruises he’d sucked onto his throat through the loose collar of his shirt.

“Come here,” Hubert said.

“Hubert, Astraea needs her exercise,” Ferdinand protested but he obeyed, and was the one who deepened the kiss first, hands stroking down Hubert’s chest, then lower. He nuzzled at Hubert’s throat, squirming and gasping as Hubert’s hands cupped his ass tightly. Hubert was pleased with the sound of protest Ferdinand made as he stepped away. Those tight pants left absolutely no doubt of the state he had left Ferdinand in.

“Far be it for me to keep Astraea from her daily run,” Hubert said and Ferdinand glared at him.

“Stop teasing me, Hubert.”

“You think this teasing after last night?” Hubert moved behind Ferdinand, pressing a kiss to the side of his jaw. Idly his hands drifted up to play with Ferdinand’s nipples. He rolled them under his fingers through the rough cotton, delighting in the way Ferdinand gasped and shivered against him. “Trust me, Ferdinand, the next time I’m done _teasing_ you, you’ll have forgotten your own name.”

Ferdinand moaned as Hubert pulled his hands away. Hubert couldn’t help his grin at the dazed look on Ferdinand’s face. “Maybe I will accompany you to the stables,” he said cheerfully and Ferdinand hissed in irritation.

He cheered up once they were outside, for no apparent reason Hubert could see. It was cold and dark still. Ferdinand said, “Isn’t it lovely to be outside at this time of the day? So bracing! There are stars out, look.”

Hubert’s missions took him through the night frequently and enough of them bled into early morning, but he was not in the habit of noticing the stars during his work. He looked up to be polite. “Stars in the sky,” he drawled. “How extraordi -”

He cut himself off. There was something in the sky that was not a star. It was a blur of moving darkness, an elegant swoop of ink against the grey sky. Hubert watched as it made a series of circles, then arrowed down so suddenly it would surely crash into a thicket of trees, before ricocheting up at the last possible second. 

“She is skilled,” Ferdinand said, looking up with him. He sounded wistful. “I have always loved watching Lady Aegir fly. That is the one thing that never changes.”

For a moment, Hubert had not realized who he was watching. Since childhood, the fliers had fascinated him. Hubert knew what it was to float a little - any entry-level warlock knew the exhilaration of their feet leaving the ground for the first time as they cast. But he would never know what it was to soar like that rider in the sky, weightless over the world.

“I did not see pegasi in your stables.” Nor had there been a record of any being sent to the front with the horses from the Aegir stables.

“They are not technically of the Aegir estate,” Ferdinand said. “She maintains her animals with her own income.”

It was a common enough arrangement, originally popularized by wealthy merchants marrying into the nobility. Adrestian marriage law presumed the legal unity of two married people, any property brought into the marriage being held jointly unless one person held the blessing of the Goddess in the form of a Crest in their lineage. Coincidentally, they were usually nobles. Since Crested offspring also received the entire estate of their parents, a mechanism called the “Widow’s Relief” had been created. It ensured a Crestless spouse could still retain access to some of their money after marriage. A well-off and conscientious, if Crestless, parent could set up such a trust, administered by the Ministry of Religion, in the marriage settlement. 

Hubert frowned and made a mental note to have someone send him the details of Lady Aegir’s marriage papers. “She has a large stable then?”

“No, not a large one,” Ferdinand said. “Only about four pegasi right now - five, I should say though her newest addition is only six months old. She breeds and trains them herself. I did not know you were interested in pegasi, Hubert.”

“I am not,” Hubert said defensively. Well, not any longer. He had been disabused of that notion very young. House Vestra did not need its heir mooning after silly, impossible dreams. “I am only seeking to familiarize myself with the Aegir estate.”

Ferdinand shrugged. “As I said, they are not property of the estate,” he said. _Otherwise they would have been taken_ , was the thing they both knew and did not bother to say. “If you would like to see more of them, they are pastured towards the east. But I had better see the same interest in my horses later, Hubert!”

Hubert ignored him, setting off almost before Ferdinand finished his sentence. He had seen very little of Lady Aegir in the past seven days or so. It had been a relief, frankly. Hubert preferred not to be confronted with the mother of the man he was having vivid hourly fantasies about. Now that the feverish edge of his desire had been temporarily blunted, he had sufficient brainpower to be suspicious about her absence. He walked through the trees for long enough to wonder if he had gotten lost and then, suddenly, as in a dream, he was confronted with three pegasi standing in a field. 

They were much bigger than the usual run of the breed. Hubert had only ever seen the white ones, so delicate they seemed made out of spun sugar, with their fine, spindly legs and their wings spreading like a sweep of snow. These pegasi were bigger and there was nothing dainty about them. Their huge wings were tucked neatly by their sides, feathers dappled with a light gold colour. Hubert could not stop himself from staring. Each of these animals, with their wingspan and the muscle rippling under their gilded coats, had to be worth a fortune. Hubert had never seen anything like them.

A shadow fell over him and Hubert looked up to see a huge black Pegasus, its wings blotting out the sunrise. For a moment, he couldn’t move and then, with a curse, he leapt clear of the animal as its hooves thundered down just where he had stood a minute ago.

“My apologies, Marquis Vestra,” Lady Aegir said. “I did not see you.”

She swung herself down. Lady Aegir was a big woman, tall like her son and built along the same long, sturdy lines. She had never progressed beyond a Pegasus Knight certification; they needed to stay small and light. But the maneuvers Hubert had just seen her execute against the steel grey sky would have put a Falcon Knight to shame. Her hair in its coronet was only mildly disheveled from exertion, fine red hairs sparking around her head like a nimbus. 

“These creatures,” Hubert said. “They are beautiful.”

Surprise skittered over her face. “Indeed? I did not know you were fond of riding,” she said coolly, turning away. She led her pegasus away and said nothing as Hubert followed her. 

It was small, with fewer stalls, but designed in the same bright, airy way of the main stable. There were no other people here. Like her son, Lady Aegir evidently preferred to take care of her animals herself. She got down on her haunches, clinically examining a shining black leg. 

Hubert was not often in the position where he had to start a conversation and he found he did not enjoy it. “What is her name?” he tried.

Lady Aegir did not look at him. “Aphra.”

“The others in the field?”

“Acton, Currer and Ellis.”

She straightened with a chirping noise. Something exploded out of one of the pens and Hubert plastered himself against the wall.

“And that is Wollstonecraft,” Lady Aegir said in a tone of some satisfaction. The creature - it looked like a pegasus foal - tilted its head as it stared at Hubert. Then, to his alarm, it moved closer. “She is probably wondering if you have apples.”

The foal was the same striking colour as Aphra, a deep, shining black colour, with wide yellow eyes. Hubert thought it looked closer to a winged spider than a horse, its appendages were so much longer than its body. Wollstonecraft looked at Lady Aegir, then back at Hubert, and took another step closer.

“I assure you,” Hubert said stiffly. “I do not have any apples.”

Lady Aegir waited a beat, just long enough for Hubert to suspect she was doing it on purpose. Then she stepped forward and put her hand out to Wollstonecraft who ambled immediately towards her, nosing at her light armour. She put her hand on its neck, stroking gently. “You are an early riser, Marquis Vestra?” she said. “I did not realize. I had not seen you up and about till now.”

Without waiting for a response, she turned back to Aphra, who had been watching the proceedings with a look of mild disdain. Lady Aegir started to curry comb the pegasus with small, round motions as Wollstonecraft bumped around the stall, finally settling down by Lady Aegir’s feet and fixing Hubert with big, curious eyes.

“I understand that you will be with us a full month,” she continued. “That will be nice for you.”

“Your hospitality is appreciated,” Hubert said. Lady Aegir said everything in the same even, polite tone. The ends of her mouth curled upwards like Ferdinand’s. Perhaps she had been the one to train him to never stop looking mildly pleasant. Above it, her eyes were cool and assessing. It was impossible to determine how she felt about his stay. Hubert suspected that was its own tell.

“Mm.” Lady Aegir continued those slow, hypnotic circles. “Ferdinand is glad to finally have some of his friends visit him. He gets letters, but there’s really no substitute for the flesh, is there?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Seeing friends in person,” Lady Aegir said. “In the flesh. He does not speak much about his time at Garreg Mach but he maintains a fairly active correspondence still.” There was a minute pause. “I have not noticed your name amongst the people he writes to.”

“That is because I never wrote.” Nor had Ferdinand written to him. It was not unexpected but Hubert had experienced a twist of something like hurt anyway, whenever a letter from the Aegir estate addressed to Petra or Dorothea crossed his desk for review. “Given that I orchestrated his father’s imprisonment, I did not think he would care to hear from me.”

It was the truth. It was also a threat - an unsubtle reminder to Lady Aegir who had moved to the wall. She hung the curry comb, took up a hard bristled brush and resumed her grooming as if Hubert were speaking of the weather. After a moment, she said coldly, “Marquis Vestra, you have obviously sought me out for some reason. Would you like to share it?”

Hubert swept her a little bow. “I wanted to apologize to you for the Crown’s oversight.” Lady Aegir raised her eyebrows but Hubert always liked to follow aggression with a small concession. It kept people wrong-footed. “Ferdinand indicated he was called back due to some mismanagement on the part of the stewards sent by House Bergliez. Things moved quickly that first year but they should have been more thoroughly vetted. Her Majesty has no intention for any of the noble houses remaining to consolidate power at the expense of what was Aegir territory.”

“Yes, I imagine that’s not at all what Her Majesty wants,” Lady Aegir said drily. “Your apology is accepted, of course.” She could have said nothing else, but still managed to make it sound like she was the one doing Hubert a favour. He was reluctantly impressed.

Perhaps Lady Aegir sensed her small advantage because she pressed onwards, “Who do you intend to appoint in place of Ferdinand? And how do you imagine the transition? I know my son is concerned on that point." 

“Ferdinand has asked that you be authorized formally as his steward when he goes to war,” Hubert said. 

Lady Aegir’s hand stilled. “And you did not immediately refuse his request?”

“Why would I?”

“Duke Aegir’s wife in charge of the territory? How will it look to Emperor Edelgard’s political opponents?”

Hubert smiled then. It was not a nice smile. “Why don’t you let me worry about Her Majesty’s opponents, my lady?” he drawled. 

Lady Aegir switched to another brush and went over Aphra again, the exact same areas in the exact same way. How many types of combs did horses and pegasi need? No wonder Hubert had never been allowed one as a pet, imagine the wasted hours. “So you plan to accede to Ferdinand’s request? Write to Emperor Edelgard and let her know that I will run Aegir lands while my son goes to war on her behalf?”

“They are no longer Aegir lands. It is Crown property now,” Hubert corrected, watching Lady Aegir closely. She just looked bored, raising her shoulders in a minute shrug at his pedantry. “Ferdinand notes your management has kept it steady in a time of great change. What the Emperor abhors is corruption, what she rewards is competence. Ludwig von Aegir fell because of his greed and poor governance but the other members of his family may still find favour on their own merits.”

That got him a sharp look - sharper than he expected. “And would you like to expand on what those merits might be, Marquis Vestra?”

“Well,” said Hubert, nonplussed. “Your steady management, as I said. You have a separate income yet you have been diligent in your oversight in the past three years of lands that are no longer yours. And Ferdinand, his determination to ensure that the people do not suffer for his father’s trespasses. The level of care he takes for the people who work on the estate. His passion for -”

“Enough,” Lady Aegir said. She was frowning again. “So you will agree with Ferdinand? Speak to Emperor Edelgard to have me retained as the steward.”

“Not immediately,” Hubert said. “You could have sat back and let Count Bergliez’s men wreak havoc and let it be known the Emperor does not care for her people once she has deposed of their rulers for her own games in Enbarr. Yet the work the two of you have done has been in the name of the Emperor. That will count in your favour. But I am not so much a fool as all that. I will conduct my own investigation into whether or not you are suited.”

“Fastidious,” Lady Aegir said.

Something in her tone made Hubert feel like he was being mocked and he instinctively drew himself up. “It is crucial that there be no unsavoury loyalties,” he said icily. “For example, I believe you mentioned you knew my father when you were younger?”

Lady Aegir looked blankly at him and then laughed, a small owl’s hoot that was incongruous with her marble composure. “Just a little at Garreg Mach,” she said demurely. “Where you met my son as well, I believe.”

Hubert grit his teeth. “What was your association with him, Lady Aegir?”

She widened her eyes at him. “An association with the previous Marquis Vestra? No, you go too far in your imagination, sir,” Lady Aegir said. “He was only one of several eligible and striking men at the Officer’s Academy.”

She paused. “ _Very_ striking though.”

Hubert felt himself pale.

“Of course, I was young,” Lady Aegir said, looking very far away all of a sudden. “And my parents had their eye on Ludwig already but you know, in a different world, Marquis Vestra. Why, you and Ferdinand might have been brothers.”

“Thank you, madam, that is enough!” barked Hubert. He thought he might be sick. Ferdinand’s mother - and his father - 

“You have scared Wollstonecraft, Marquis Vestra,” Lady Aegir said reproachfully as the pegasus foal skittered up at Hubert’s sharp tone. “Here, offer this to her.”

Hubert automatically caught the apple she lobbed in her direction. Wollstonecraft followed its trajectory with shining eyes and looked at Hubert with renewed interest, like he was made entirely of apples. “Just hold it out,” Lady Aegir chided. “She will not bite. I would like her to know you.”

“Why would you want that?”

“You are a dark mage, are you not? And one of high calibre, according to Ferdinand,” Lady Aegir said. “Watch your fingers, you’ll get nipped. I would like to train Wollstonecraft to be a Dark Flier mount. It is too late for the others, they are too skittish around magic now. But Wollstonecraft is young enough there’s a chance to accustom her to its use.”

“I could not possibly,” Hubert started to say.

“Ferdinand will have to spend time arranging the transition of the estate business,” Lady Aegir said inexorably. “In the meanwhile, this can serve as part of your investigation into my suitability, no?”

“I am afraid I will be very busy,” Hubert tried.

“Doing what?” Lady Aegir skewered him with a look. And because Hubert couldn’t very well say, _Fucking your son in as many positions as my imagination will produce, and several of them twice_ , he was forced to accede, in very bad temper.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you as always to [qwertyuiop678](https://archiveofourown.org/users/qwertyuiop678/pseuds/qwertyuiop678) for your encouragement, brilliant suggestions and always catching my weird spacing.
> 
> content warnings: undernegotiated sort-of somnophilia, more dirty talk, d/s, orgasm control, toys, mild humiliation kink, nipple play, penetrative sex
> 
> other content warnings: discussion of difficult family dynamics including parental neglect, accounting jokes, admin law jokes, hubert getting bullied by a pegasus and lady aegir (not in a sexy way),

Ferdinand woke with Hubert’s mouth on him. He came to awareness on a whine, the sound dragged out of him as he slowly rose out of sleep to a slow stripe of wet warmth dragged from the base of his cock to the tip. “ _Hah_ ,” he panted. “H-Hubert?”

Ferdinand moaned softly as he felt Hubert move slowly up his body, with open-mouthed kisses to his thighs, his hips, his chest. He had taken Ferdinand in hand and was lazily stroking him. Ferdinand’s head was heavy with sleep and arousal and he couldn’t stop his eyes from sliding closed, arching his hips up as Hubert swiped a thumb over the sensitive head. Slow, lazy kisses were pressed against his throat and then Hubert was nuzzling into the nape of his neck, dragging at his ear with his teeth, an interesting sensation that Ferdinand had not expected to like so much. Hubert kissed his shoulder, the raised white scar where he’d taken an axe during their first battle at Garreg Mach and Ferdinand shivered.

Ferdinand knew he should move, give Hubert pleasure in return but it felt so lovely to be taken care of, warm under their blankets and half asleep like this. Hubert’s mouth pressed lazily against his throat; his other hand tweaking a nipple, ghosting over Ferdinand’s abdomen, cupping his balls. Hubert moved with no purpose but for the sheer pleasure of touching him, exploring Ferdinand’s body because he could. Ferdinand felt dizzy and drifting, so sensitized that Hubert’s breath against his shoulder made him twitch with longing. He curved up into Hubert’s body, feeling Hubert’s cock pressing against him. 

“So easy and pliant like this,” murmured Hubert. Goddess, his voice, low and rough with sleep still. It seemed to wrap around Ferdinand as surely as Hubert’s clever fingers. “I could do whatever I wanted to you and you would love it.”

Hubert continued talking, spinning Ferdinand’s dreams. He saw himself the way Hubert did, hair splayed over the pillow, mouth slack with sleep and arousal, eyelashes fluttering, helplessly thrusting in rhythm to the slow slide of Hubert’s hand up and down his slick cock. 

_Yes_ , thought Ferdinand muzzily, _All yours_. That brought another sharp stab of heat and he barely had time to gasp _please._ Hubert’s answer came with a sudden, quick twist of his grip and Ferdinand’s hands fisted in the sheets as he came. 

When he blinked himself more awake seconds later, Hubert had obtained a handkerchief from somewhere and was wiping his mess off him. The greedy look in his sharp eyes was enough to prickle Ferdinand to awareness again, ridiculous considering how recently Hubert had brought him to completion. Ferdinand angled himself up for a kiss.

“What time is it?” he whispered against Hubert’s mouth.

“Early still,” Hubert replied. They were completely alone in Ferdinand’s bed but speaking softly, as if unwilling to break the illusion that their whole world was this quiet little cocoon of blankets. “You don’t normally leave for your morning rides for another two hours yet.”

“Perfect,” said Ferdinand, rolling Hubert onto his back.

***

_Perfect_. 

Hubert kept coming back to that. The bright, avid look in Ferdinand’s eyes as he’d said it, like nothing delighted him more having a couple hours to stay in bed with him. The way he had kissed Hubert afterwards, his long hair falling in coppery sheets around their faces, the feeling of being caught in a fragrant cage of silken thre — 

Something slimy and cold nosed at his hand. Hubert pulled away with a sound of disgust.

“Marquis Vestra,” said Lady Aegir, as Wollstonecraft moved onto Hubert’s pockets. “How kind of you to join us in spirit, as well as body.”

If the memory of Ferdinand was sunshine on this cold winter day, the reality of Lady Aegir was as good as a bucket of ice. Even warmly bundled in his single-caped greatcoat, Hubert shivered. They stood in the field by her pegasi stable. Lady Aegir wore a riding suit of black wool broadcloth but had replaced the full skirt, favoured by the older matrons in Enbarr, with loosely fitted trousers tucked into high boots well-stained with mud. She was bareheaded. Acton, Currer, Ellis and Aphra were clustered at the far end of the field, untethered, all wings and disdain. Maybe it was only Hubert’s imagination but Aphra had a particularly menacing look on her equine face. Lady Aegir had informed him she was Wollstonecraft’s mother. 

Lady Aegir held an apple in one hand and a riding crop in the other. The former was easily within reach of Wollstonecraft’s great, greedy teeth but the pegasus foal did not go near her. Instead, it bumped its head against Hubert’s hand again. “What does it want?” Hubert said, through gritted teeth.

“I believe _she_ would like to be pet,” Lady Aegir said. After a long pause, when Hubert didn’t move, Lady Aegir sighed. “Pet her.”

“Why?” Hubert moved his hand mechanically up and down on Wollstonecraft’s nose. He could feel her warm, wet breathing through the thick knitted wool of his gloves. The foal sneezed. Hubert withdrew his hand immediately as both Lady Aegir and Wollstonecraft gave him an unimpressed look. “I fail to see the point of this exercise. Why don’t I just go to the far end of the field and start casting Mire?”

Lady Aegir closed her eyes. “And what do you think would happen if you did that?” 

“Well,” Hubert said. “She would get used to it?”

“Indeed. She would get used to magic being a sudden, upsetting thing, coming out of nowhere, cast by someone she has no knowledge of and no trust in,” Lady Aegir had her hand on Wollstonecraft’s back, keeping it there gently. “Before we begin her training, we will need to establish you as a calming presence to her.”

Hubert was beginning to seriously doubt Lady Aegir’s suitability as any kind of decision-maker. Lady Edelgard required many things of him but being a calming presence had not, for many immediately apparent reasons, been one of them. 

“Pegasi and horses will associate you with the atmosphere you create around them,” she continued. “If you are distressed or despairing, they will know it. They require your mind to be here with them, not dwelling in some future catastrophe.”

For some reason, that brought Ferdinand to mind again. Everyone knew he was often in the stables, smiling at them, singing to them, always willing to exercise your horse if you had no time for it. There was a new facet to Hubert’s memory now though, of how blankly pleasant Ferdinand’s expression was until he reached the horses. The way he brightened for them, a candlewick flickering suddenly to flame.

“You can handle being pleasant for an hour,” Lady Aegir said, with cool certainty, even while Hubert saw her mouth twitch at the expression on his face. “Luckily, Wollstonecraft is not timid.”

Wollstonecraft certainly was not. She circled Hubert like he was a toy she had not yet figured out how to play with. 

Lady Aegir tossed the apple at him. “I do not usually start with fruit,” she said. “The amount of sugar is not good for the pegasi, but in this case, I think we should have all the help we can get. Don’t give it to her right away.”

But Wollstonecraft knew he had it. She was obviously well-trained enough not to nip (at least while Lady Aegir was looking) but she shot longing looks at his pocket that were not reassuring. Lady Aegir made him march around the field, hand-walking her. 

Unlike a horse, Wollstonecraft had a disconcerting habit of bouncing and then taking off slightly. Hubert was nearly hit in the face several times by her wings. Lady Aegir spoke up and corrected Wollstonecraft whenever she lagged behind Hubert, or conversely, tried to pull him along but otherwise, Hubert had to manage on his own. All in all, it was one of the more convincing arguments Hubert had experienced against Pegasus Knighthood. 

After several rounds in total silence, Lady Aegir said, “Make conversation with her.”

“I beg your pardon,” Hubert said flatly.

“She needs to get used to you,” Lady Aegir said. “Once you start casting spells around her, Wollstonecraft must know your voice is not a threat. For example, you could tell her she is pretty.”

Hubert stared at her.

Lady Aegir’s lips twitched again. “Not one for kind words, I see. Or you could tell her about your time in Garreg Mach, with Ferdinand.”

“Ferdinand has not said much about his time at the Officers’ Academy to you?”

“He has not,” confirmed Lady Aegir. “He came back much changed. What did you think of him there? Were the two of you friends?”

Hubert glanced at Lady Aegir. Surely she could not know about - no, his conscience was overactive. These were the questions of a curious mother. What did she mean by ‘much changed’? 

Lady Aegir looked back at him with wide, limpid eyes, casually tapping her side with the riding crop.

Huber cleared his throat. “He was. Ferdinand was.” 

The words caught tightly in his chest. That entire year at Garreg Mach was a blur, a hoping against hope. But there and there, a memory:

—Ferdinand practicing Brigidan maneuvers with Petra on the training grounds, clambering to his feet over and over without a moment’s hesitation —

— In the common room with Lady Edelgard as Dorothea sang for them, watching the way Ferdinand vibrated in front of him with barely suppressed pleasure as her voice did extraordinary things — 

— Ferdinand sitting on a hill with Bernadetta, holding her hand quietly as she shook herself down from nerves — 

“He was determined,” Hubert said slowly. “One of the most single-minded people I have ever met and the hardest working. The littlest things delighted him. And he was kind.”

Hubert had not even known those moments were in him. It made him feel strange that they were the ones that arose and not, for example, every single instance of Ferdinand trying to one-up Lady Edelgard. Or their multiple incidents of property damage, including one where he and Ferdinand had once destroyed the professor’s newly planted seedlings in the middle of a thunderous fight. Instead, they had been replaced - or rather, receded in his memory so there was mostly Ferdinand determined, Ferdinand delighted, Ferdinand kind, and it was difficult to tell what had always been there and what was growing now.

Wollstonecraft turned to regard him with big yellow eyes. Hubert realized he had stopped and instead of pulling or prancing, she had come to a halt with him. When he started to walk again, she went easily, matching the rhythm of his steps. “Good girl,” Hubert murmured, and gave her the apple. She crunched it, delighted, and nuzzled at his hand. Then he remembered himself, and glanced at Lady Aegir.

She was particularly expressionless, staring at the trees. 

“You know my son well,” she said abruptly. Her riding crop beat a relentless tattoo against her leg. “Then again, I suppose it is easy to get close to your classmates at Garreg Mach…”

Hubert had a feeling he wasn’t going to like where this went. To circumvent the House Vestra-related reminiscing Lady Aegir clearly intended to attempt, he said hastily, “I’ve walked till my feet are nearly falling off. What else can I be doing?”

Which was how he found himself standing in a field, watched suspiciously by four pegasi and one extremely judgemental woman, weaving dry grass into a pegasus foal’s hair. Hubert tried not to feel completely stupid. Wollstonecraft stilled as Hubert combed his bare fingers through her mane. He had taken off his gloves to allow for greater dexterity of movement and was slowly but surely braiding a waterfall pattern through her black hair. 

“You are talented at that,” Lady Aegir said, soundly mildly surprised.

“I have some familiarity with hairdressing.” It came out of Hubert’s mouth naturally, as if he were in the habit of sharing anything about himself. 

The familiar way Wollstonecraft’s coarse mane slid through his fingers made him remember early mornings of companionable silence behind Lady Edelgard, sometimes the only moment of respite either of them had that day. Hubert was free to focus only on making sure her fine, silky hair did not slip through his fingers before he was done. 

Wollstonecraft blinked at him as if she were coming out of a relaxing daze then tossed her head, braids rattling, and darted off to be inspected by the older pegasi. She looked extremely pleased with herself. 

Hubert glanced at Lady Aegir and her habitual tightly woven coronet. He thought of Ferdinand’s beautiful hair, the way it fell loose and waving over his shoulders, the way Ferdinand sometimes shoved it impatiently out of his face or pulled it up in a rough tail, clumsily securing it with ribbon. 

“I am surprised you did not teach Ferdinand to learn how to braid,” Hubert said.

“He has other methods of building a bond with his horses,” Lady Aegir said. “He would walk with them for hours around the paddock, singing to them.”

She said this very coldly, eyes fixed on Aphra bending good-naturedly over Wollstonecraft. 

“You never offered?”

Lady Aegir turned her gaze onto Hubert and for once, he did not blame her for the disdainful expression on her face. 

“He has never asked me to,” she said.

“What did you mean when you said Ferdinand came back much changed?”

Lady Aegir’s hand tightened around the handle of her riding crop and for a moment, Hubert thought she would actually hit him. Then it resumed its slow, steady tattoo and Lady Aegir said, “I spoke carelessly. He was, what, seventeen, nearly eighteen, when he went to the Officer’s Academy? That’s an age where you only need to blink and your child is different again.”

“Different how, exactly?” Hubert’s stomach was twisting. “Did he come home angry?”

“Angry?” Lady Aegir smiled, with teeth and absolutely no humour. It was a good thing Wollstonecraft was safely across the field because it was clear that maintaining a calm and pleasant environment was rapidly sliding down her list of priorities. “You’re asking me if Ferdinand came back full of vengeance against yourself and your Emperor?”

Hubert said nothing. He had stoked Lady Aegir into a temper, that much was clear, and there was truth in anger. 

“It was the opposite,” Lady Aegir said. “He came back desperate to prove himself. He emptied the stables in the first month, sending his horses to the Imperial army. I had to help him strip the house in the first year. He sold what he could to make up for poor harvests, so your Emperor would still have her war funds. And even _now_ you dare to doubt him? If I hear you say anything like that again, Marquis Vestra, I will horsewhip you myself. Do you understand?”

***

“How are you finding training Wollstonecraft?” 

“Hm?”

Ferdinand rested his chin on his hand. He was tired of frowning over the reports from his land agents and Hubert was even more quiet than usual, returning from the morning with Wollstonecraft. Ferdinand and Wilhelm had managed to scare up an additional desk from the depths of the house and moved it into his office so he and Hubert worked together. Ferdinand told himself it saved heating, and Hubert didn’t complain. 

The table Ferdinand worked on was old and scarred and the surface was warped a little with water damage but Wilhelm had sanded it down and hammered in a couple additional nails. It was sturdy and wide, all Ferdinand told himself he needed in a work surface. 

Hubert had offered to take it instead but Ferdinand wouldn’t let him make the exchange. “This one is wider,” he said airily. “And I prefer to be able to scatter my papers about while I work.”

No one was going to see water damage under his profusion of notes anyway. It was oddly pleasant working with Hubert. He had never been loud when working, not like Caspar who grunted as he clutched at his hair, working out equations, or Dorothea who constantly sang under her breath as she reviewed her notes. Hubert’s pen moved steadily and sometimes so did his lips, mouthing words silently. Ferdinand tended to mumble as he worked, sounding out his thoughts as he wrote them. He hummed or sighed as he read. He kept catching himself until Hubert glanced at him and said, “It’s more distracting when you stop suddenly like that.” A minute pause. “I don’t mind it.”

Being able to look up from his scribbling and see Hubert’s dark head bent over his maps, a little scowl of concentration on his face, made Ferdinand’s chest feel as if he had just taken his first sip of freshly brewed tea on a cold day. Better than that was looking up to find Hubert already doing the same thing, stealing a glance at Ferdinand as he worked. 

Hubert’s face pinkened slightly as he leaned back in his chair, trying to pretend like he hadn’t been caught. “What do you mean, how do I find training? I appeared on time. I did as Lady Aegir instructed.”

Ferdinand rolled his eyes. “And I am sure you had no thoughts about the process at all,” he teased. “How do you find Wollstonecraft? She is sweet, do you not think so?”

Hubert appeared to be thinking seriously about this, as if he were pronouncing a judgement. “She is acceptably intelligent. Spirited.” He cleared his throat. “She liked having her mane braided. I have never seen a vainer creature.”

Ferdinand had to slap a hand over his mouth. He couldn’t exactly coo at Hubert von Vestra, the Emperor’s Knife in the Shadows, but it was a near thing. “Well! I certainly wish I could have seen you styling her.”

His amusement was clearly still obvious. Hubert scowled and looked away, the colour in his cheeks deepening. “It was certainly an enlightening session. What are you working on?” 

“I’ve asked for transition memorandums from our bailiffs,” Ferdinand said, accepting Hubert’s abrupt change of subject once he had regained control of his expression. “I am trying to collate all the actionable items into one document for the next steward’s easy review, as well as a timeline for what tasks ought to be accomplished.” He sighed, pushing a strand of hair out of his face. “It is a great deal.”

“Would that still be the case if Lady Aegir was given authority in your stead?” 

Ferdinand was slowly learning that these questions were not traps, or pointed invitations to provide evidence of sedition. “I would still make these lists to make it easier for her. Since I came back, Lady Aegir’s time is mostly spent dealing with the accounts of the estates. She is very familiar to the bailiffs, however, and that is a significant advantage. She also largely ran Aegir territory by herself while my father was in Enbarr. We were able to afford much more help then, though.” And Edelgard was not able to now, especially with most of the qualified people being called to war.

Hubert nodded, clearly making mental notes of everything Ferdinand had told him. He would probably cross-reference it against the information Pomona gathered from the staff - Ferdinand was under no delusion that friendly, practical Pomona was making herself very useful in the house out of sheer altruism - and probe Lady Aegir herself, checking all their conversation for inconsistencies. 

It was odd to think that while he was braiding a foal’s hair, Hubert was probably also assessing his mother, her capabilities for management, and also for treason. It put a bit of a damper on the charming image. 

“Lady Aegir would not be a bad choice as steward. She stopped me from making several grievous mistakes, especially in the beginning,” Ferdinand said. “There is a reason she keeps our accounts, you know. In the first year, I listed our grain yield as a capital gain.”

Hubert von Vestra, the Emperor’s Knife in the Shadows, also her Minister of the Imperial Household and therefore aware of the basic principles of taxation, looked appalled. 

Ferdinand laughed. “I thought since our lands are a capital asset that anything they produced must be a gain.”

Still looking mildly horrified, Hubert said, “Perhaps we should have invested Lady Aegir with the rights and responsibilities of the Crown’s steward all along.”

“Who else do you and Edelgard have in mind if you decide my mother is unsuitable?” Ferdinand asked. 

Hubert turned the question around on him. “What will your mother do if she is not the steward?”

“I,” Ferdinand said. “I do not entirely know.” 

“The two of you have not spoken of it? That surprises me,” Hubert said. “She does not seem to me the kind of woman to leave things to chance.”

“I have thought perhaps she could come back to Enbarr with me.” But Ferdinand knew perfectly well his mother hated the city. That was why she had left when he was five, and returned to Wildfall Court alone. 

Hubert made a face. “I find myself quailing at the thought of your mother let loose in the halls of the palace in Enbarr. Have you ever asked her why she chose to leave when you were so young?” 

“Your notes on my family are very accurate,” Ferdinand replied flatly. “No, we have never spoken of it.” 

_Too selfish to bear a little inconvenience for her family_ , his father said. And another time, _She cared more about those damn pegasi than anything else_. Ferdinand and Lady Aegir had not spoken properly since their conversation in the Wilhemina parlour. And now Hubert was working with her to train her new foal. Ferdinand wasn’t sure who he ought to warn about who. Both were quite capable of arranging a discreet riding accident. 

Hubert stayed silent. To fill it, Ferdinand said, “It is not so strange, is it? She preferred the countryside but my father wanted to keep me in Enbarr to train as his heir.” His father had practiced a benign neglect at least, patting his head at the breakfast table before whisking off to his meetings, quizzing him about his lessons at dinner. 

“She did write regularly to me,” Ferdinand added. Lady Aegir’s letters appeared like clockwork on his desk at the beginning of every week. They enquired about his health and his lessons and told him very little about herself, much less if she thought about him. 

“I never knew you to shy away from confrontation before,” Hubert said. “Do you not wish to know?” His tone was strange - not exactly gentle. Perhaps that was a register Hubert was incapable of. But it was soft, curious; he was trying very hard not to give offence. 

If he did not want to give offence, perhaps he should not have asked the question. “What is there to know, Hubert? It is not exactly uncommon for noble families to live apart. My father had no real taste for setting up in the country but my mother did. Even by the time I was five, I knew they were not particularly happy together and Enbarr held very little for her. Should she have stayed for me?”

Ferdinand’s face felt stiff from holding a neutral expression. The anger in his chest was only partly due to Hubert’s questions. The rest of it was old and sour, a child’s curdled hurt. “How is this at all relevant to your assessment of my mother’s suitability as steward?” 

“It isn’t, I suppose,” Hubert said. He frowned down at his quill. “But I find - to give this amount of power to someone who has hurt y - that is, you have run the territory well and I would not appoint someone you had qualms about.”

Ferdinand stared at him. Was this what it was like to be Edelgard? To have Hubert further your wish against all odds? The tight, angry feeling in his chest was slowly unknotting itself, replaced by something wild and sweet. He was a hypocrite. How many times had he disdained Hubert's ruthless willingness to place Edelgard’s will over all other considerations?

Hubert was staring back, an unreadable look in his pale eyes. Ferdinand shifted in his chair, aware of the heat of his cheeks and blurted out:

“If you appointed her as steward, it would only reassure House Bergliez and House Hevring, you know. It is crucial that Edelgard maintain the support of the judiciary and military, and Count Bergliez and Count Hevring are very conservative. If they suspect Edelgard inclined to take away their power, they will band together and try to overwhelm her authority. But Lady Aegir is a known quantity and if she is shown to maintain a nominal power, it will reassure them until the war is done and their support is not so vital to her.”

Hubert blinked at him.

“Er,” Ferdinand said. “I could be biased, of course. Though I am not saying this because I want my family to retain control - I would not wish you to think I angle for House Aegir to have more influence -”

He did not want Hubert to think he was conniving to take back his family’s power through the same type of political maneuvering his father had always been good at. “Dorothea writes,” Ferdinand added self-consciously. “She has a judicious eye for detail. I have not been keeping up with affairs in Enbarr for any self-serving reason -”

Hubert just looked at him. “What? No, I did not think you were trying anything like that,” he said, frowning. “I am inclined to agree with your opinion, that is all. I was just surprised that we share it.”

Ferdinand crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Hubert. “You did not think I was smart enough to piece that all together?” 

“I was not expecting you to put so much thought into the maintenance of Her Majesty’s influence long term.”

“If you do not, you are doing Adrestia a disservice, Hubert! There has been enough upheaval in the last two decades and most of its ill effects have fallen on the populace! There has been too much politicking for personal gain in Enbarr and insufficient consideration to the type of initiatives that would best serve the people -”

“Peace, Ferdinand," Hubert said. “I agree with you.”

He leaned back in his chair, sliding his hands down the wooden arms. Ferdinand found himself following the line of Hubert’s long, pale fingers against dark wood. Hubert smiled slightly and said, “In terms of my consideration of your intellect, I must admit that in school, I occasionally paid more attention to the way your mouth moved than the words coming out of them.”

“That probably saved my life once or twice,” replied Ferdinand as his cheeks heated further.

The corners of Hubert’s lips twitched upwards and he did not deny it. There was a laughing glint in his eye that made Ferdinand smile as he rose. Hubert pushed himself back from the desk obligingly as Ferdinand leaned down and kissed him. “Good thing I was so distracting,” he said against Hubert’s mouth.

“I do not think I even realized how much,” Hubert said.

He wound a hand in Ferdinand’s hair, and an arm around his waist, tugging him into his lap. Ferdinand wrapped an arm around Hubert’s shoulders and cupped Hubert’s jaw with his other hand, marvelling at how fine and sharp it felt against his calloused palm.

They kissed like this for a while, Hubert’s hand toying with his hair as Ferdinand cupped the nape of his neck, stroking his fingers across the rough, dense black hair shaved close to the delicate skin. Ferdinand pulled himself away, pressing a kiss against Hubert’s jaw where it met his earlobe.

“You distracted me too,” he whispered, and felt a shiver move through Hubert’s body. Ferdinand’s lips curled as Hubert’s fingers dug into his waist. 

“Tell me,” demanded Hubert, and the hand in Ferdinand’s hair became a tug as Hubert pulled his head back, pressing a kiss against Ferdinand’s throat.

Ferdinand closed his eyes. “I liked your hands,” he confessed. “I could not stop noticing them back at Garreg Mach. I once spent half a lecture watching you learn a new spell and had to borrow Linhardt’s notes after.”

The kiss at his throat became a bite and Ferdinand gasped. “I liked your height, the way you loomed over me,” he continued breathlessly, as Hubert started to undo the buttons on his shirt. “And your voice, Goddess - I did not think it was fair that you were at school with a voice like that, so smooth and low, while I was just a few years away from my voice cracking when I spoke.”

“Did you think of me then?” Hubert had his shirt open and Ferdinand’s nipples were tight, suddenly exposed to the cold air of the room. Hubert rolled one with his thumb and Ferdinand’s hips jerked as he nodded.

“I - I tried not to,” he said. He pushed Hubert’s jackets off his shoulders, pressing his face into the crook of his neck, suddenly desperate to breathe in Hubert’s bitter, herbal smell. “But sometimes, I was not able to help myself -”

Hubert pinched both his nipples hard and Ferdinand cried out, his half-hard cock jerking fully to life. “Get up,” demanded Hubert hoarsely. “We’re going to the bedroom.”

***

Hubert had been on fire a number of times in his life, as was the usual run of things facing other mages in war. This felt remarkably similar. The heat in his blood was consuming him and he was half terrified, in case this was the one time he would not be able to control it or heal from it. But he couldn’t stop himself from kissing Ferdinand, dragging his clothes off him, his linen shirt and satin waistcoat abandoned by the desk, his silk drugget pants discarded by the door, until Ferdinand was naked on the bed, with only a velvet ribbon barely holding his hair together. It was a good look on him, thought Hubert. Though if that ribbon were around his throat instead — 

Goddess, he was going to self-immolate.

Thankfully, Ferdinand looked in a similar state. His eyes were dazed and he was fully hard, staring at Hubert, still mostly dressed. Hubert licked his lips and leaned in. He reached out one finger sliding it up the underside of Ferdinand’s erection. Ferdinand’s hips arched off the linen bedspread, a drawn bow. 

“I’ve barely even touched you and you’re so ready for me,” Hubert murmured, and placed his finger against Ferdinand’s mouth. Ferdinand didn’t hesitate, lips parting as he took Hubert’s finger in, slick with his own pre-cum. Hubert had to close his eyes to regain control. “Good, Ferdinand,” he said breathlessly. “So good.”

Ferdinand moaned around his finger and released it with an audible pop. He sat up, leaning in to kiss him. Hubert allowed it for a brief moment, wanting to taste Ferdinand on himself. Then he pulled away. “Did I say you could?” he drawled.

Ferdinand’s cock jumped at that. Hubert was suddenly so hard he felt dizzy as Ferdinand shook his head, staring at Hubert all the while like a starving tiger.

“I will only tell you this once,” Hubert said. “If I have to do it again, I will get up and leave and we will try this another time. Do you understand?”

Ferdinand had a rebellious look in his eyes but nodded when Hubert raised his eyebrow at him, settling back into the pillows with a huff. Hubert licked his lips, positioning himself at the foot of the bed. 

The sight of Ferdinand spread out for him like this, all gold and copper. Hubert had to tighten his hands on his thighs to keep himself from simply reaching out, gorging himself on everything on offer. They would both benefit from his control.

“Touch yourself,” he said, toying lightly with the buttons at his collar just to see the way Ferdinand’s eyes eagerly followed his fingers, as if Hubert exposing a bit of his throat might be the thing to bring him to completion. “And tell me about what you couldn’t help doing in school.”

Ferdinand’s head thumped back onto his pillow. “Of all the arrogant, self-involved,” he started to say, then cut himself off with a moan as he palmed his cock.

“Greedy,” murmured Hubert. “You just have no self-control, do you? I suppose I will have to direct you in this as well. Get your hands off your cock and start with your chest.”

Ferdinand’s breath audibly hitched at his words and the flush deepened but he made a show of reluctance, ghosting his hands lightly over his chest, his nipples. “Pinch them,” rasped Hubert and Ferdinand obeyed, gasping as sensation shot through him.

Hubert opened his mouth again but Ferdinand anticipated him. “I did not take my time with it like this in school,” he whispered, one hand stroking down his stomach muscles while the other continued to toy with his nipple. “Sometimes, after we fought - I would be too desperate - _ah_ \- and I’d tell myself I wanted to release some tension -”

Ferdinand whined as Hubert placed his hands on his bare thighs, cock twitching at the simple contact. Hubert groaned aloud as he bent down to nip at Ferdinand’s inner thigh. “I remember those fights,” he whispered into the delicate skin. “I would be so keyed-up afterwards, my hands would shake.”

He could feel Ferdinand’s muscles tensing under his mouth and hands. “It was the way you would loom over me,” Ferdinand said, and this time Hubert didn’t chastise him when he wrapped a hand around his own cock. “When you came too close to me and I told myself I could not _\- ah_ \- give in or back away -”

“I remember,” Hubert said breathlessly. He took one of Ferdinand’s balls into his mouth and Ferdinand keened at the new sensation. Hubert moved up against his body, liking the way his starched shirt rasped against Ferdinand’s bare skin, reddening it. “Your breathing would quicken and sometimes I would wonder if that’s what you’d sound like -”

He sucked a bruise onto Ferdinand’s collarbone as Ferdinand panted and gasped. Now he knew, and Hubert wasn’t sure how he would live with that knowledge when his month was over —

“Hubert, _please._ ” The desperation in Ferdinand’s voice recalled him and Hubert forcibly shoved his thoughts away by burying his face in the crook of Ferdinand’s neck. Ferdinand turned to meet him, kissing him messily. Hubert moaned into his mouth.

“What is it, Ferdinand?” he said. “What do you need?”

“Fuck me, Hubert, please,” Ferdinand panted against him. His hand was moving too fast on his cock, needy thing. He was going to bring himself off, even as he begged for Hubert. “Goddess, I want you inside me, _please_ -”

They hadn’t fucked yet and the thought of being inside Ferdinand while he pleaded like this made Hubert’s head spin. He clamped a hand around Ferdinand’s wrist, stilling him and Ferdinand groaned at the loss. “Sit up,” hissed Hubert. “Get your hands off yourself and spread your legs - fuck _yes_ , just like that, you beautiful, greedy slut -”

Ferdinand groaned as he obeyed, adding a needy little arch of his hips like Hubert needed any further convincing. Hubert moved to open the bottom drawer of Ferdinand’s nightstand.

_“_ Wait,” said Ferdinand, as Hubert tossed a couple vials of oil onto the mattress. “How did you know that was there?”

Hubert pulled back, giving him a look. 

***

“You looked through my nightstand?” wailed Ferdinand. Hubert had a quizzical expression on his face, as if he could not understand why Ferdinand was holding up the proceedings for such a silly reason as a grievous violation of privacy. 

“Yes, of course,” he said, speaking slowly as if Ferdinand were a dullard. “Even if it had been apparent this was merely a guest suite, it certainly doesn’t preclude any further attempts at entrapment. Anyway, since there is oil in your second drawer, I don’t need to go through my bags for it.”

Hubert reached into the drawer again and took out Ferdinand’s glass toy. The heat rushing to Ferdinand’s face this time was definitely mortification, not arousal. “And I certainly didn’t bring something like _this_ with me to Wildfall Court.”

Ferdinand glared at him. “Have you ever heard of basic manners? Anything about the privilege to privacy that the Sauin Village Collective Tribunal recently confirmed as a fundamental right accorded to all, regardless of their status?”

“There might not be a Leicester Alliance by the time Lady Edelgard and I are done,” said Hubert. “Anyway Count Gloucester is calling for a judicial review of that decision at the Leicester Court of Appeal so it should be overturned soon. Slick your fingers up with that oil.”

“Then you and Edelgard ought to enshrine that right in statute that is applicable to the entire Empire,” Ferdinand said, even as he did as Hubert ordered. “A person’s right to their privacy should be inviolable, I think, though obviously you do not share the same sentiment - _ah!”_

Hubert had leaned forward and sucked a bruise onto Ferdinand’s throat, pressing another nip onto Ferdinand’s shoulder as his hands pushed Ferdinand’s hips into the mattress. Ferdinand felt the resurgence of heat like a solid blow at his core as Hubert lazily cupped his balls, then traced upwards with his elegant fingers, light, graceful, teasing touches that made Ferdinand's head spin.

“I think you need to focus on the matter at hand, Ferdinand,” Hubert murmured against his throat. He kissed him then, slow and thorough. Ferdinand gave himself up to it, wrapping his arms around Hubert’s neck, as he pressed every inch of himself against Hubert. The sensation of being completely naked while Hubert was still clothed, the scrape of rough wool against his thighs, the cool slide of his waistcoat and the little catch of ivory buttons against his bare skin, made Ferdinand feel hot, over-sensitized. 

Hubert’s stiff cotton shirt dragged against Ferdinand’s chest and he pressed another kiss against the join between his jaw and ear, making Ferdinand whimper. “Do you think you’re ready to fuck yourself open for me now?”

All argument fell out of Ferdinand’s head as he whined in assent. Hubert sat back, a satisfied look on his face as Ferdinand fumbled again for the bottle of oil, almost spilling it in his eagerness. The thought of Hubert’s cock pressing thickly into him — Ferdinand groaned, past caring about how needy he appeared, spreading his legs wider as he pressed a finger into himself.

Hubert watched through it all. The look in his eyes - the greedy concentration in them - sent heat skittering across Ferdinand’s skin. He arched his hips up, just to see that flash of hunger dart across Hubert’s face. “May - may I add another finger?” he asked. 

Hubert’s expression barely shifted but his pale skin hid nothing as his flush deepened. He nodded and Ferdinand drew in a sharp breath as he added another finger. He moaned as he fucked himself. It wasn’t something he did too often. Alone, it was usually more trouble than it was worth. It was easier and quicker to jerk himself off and go to sleep. 

It was different with Hubert’s eyes on him. Ferdinand would do anything to keep Hubert looking at him like that, like someone could set fire to the room and Hubert would never tear his eyes off Ferdinand.

Ferdinand felt his desperation build as he twisted his fingers inside himself, finding the spot that sent him twitching with pleasure.

“Another finger, Ferdinand,” whispered Hubert and Ferdinand obeyed, dragging a moan out of Hubert’s lips that shivered down his spine. 

There was something so perverse about being completely naked before Hubert while he remained fully dressed. Like his desperate slut. The thought made Ferdinand widen his legs, whining eagerly. It felt beyond good to do this, surrender his responsibilities, become nothing but Hubert’s eager plaything.

Ferdinand writhed down on his own hand. “Hubert, please,” he whispered. “Please, more.”

Hubert took up the glass toy. Anything looked elegant held in Hubert’s long fingers, thought Ferdinand. He watched raptly as Hubert slicked it up, making his own hands shine in the candlelight as he ran his oiled palm over it. Ferdinand held himself open as Hubert pressed the toy in slowly, shivering at the sensation of fullness. But the toy was cold, not as thick as Hubert was. “I want you,” Ferdinand said, looking up intently into Hubert’s eyes. “I want it to be you, fucking me like this.”

The colour rose higher and hotter in Hubert’s cheeks. “Go on,” he said, very low. 

“I want to feel you spreading me open, Hubert, please - _ah_!” Hubert had twisted the toy and Ferdinand felt pleasure shoot through him like a crackle of lightning. “ _Saints_ , Hubert, please, please, I’ll beg as much as you want but please, _please_ , just give me your cock -”

Hubert took Ferdinand’s hands. “Show me how you’d take me,” he rasped, placing them on the base on the toy. 

“Hubert!” It was part laugh, part sob as Ferdinand fucked himself open, thighs tensing under Hubert’s hungry eyes. “You - _ah -_ you - you - miserable voyeur - _please_ -”

“Name-calling won’t get you anywhere,” Hubert said, a mocking lilt to his voice. “I thought you would have learned that at school.” 

And _oh, that insufferable bastard_ was starting to touch himself now, something he hadn’t allowed Ferdinand to do once since he had pushed Ferdinand onto the bed. Hubert smiled, slowly undoing his trouser placket as Ferdinand stared longingly. He could see the damp spot on Hubert’s underwear before he pulled himself out. Ferdinand moaned, eyes fixed on Hubert in turn as he ran his oiled hands lazily up and down his thick cock.

Ferdinand found his mouth watering as it shone, slick with oil. He spread his legs wider. “Hubert, please, I want you inside me, please, I’ll do anything -” He could feel his own cock, heavy between his legs and the heat in his gut coiled tight. A surge of desperation hit him and he whimpered, “Hubert - _fuck_ \- please, I want to come on your cock - please let me, Hubert, please - I’ve been dreaming of this since Garreg Mach -”

Hubert interrupted him with a kiss. Ferdinand groaned frantically, licking into Hubert’s mouth, trying to put as much of his pleading as he could into it. “You greedy, impatient little slut,” Hubert said against his lips. “Goddess, you beg so beautifully, Ferdinand -”

Hubert was pulling the toy out. Ferdinand barely had a moment to whine at the sudden emptiness before Hubert was sliding into him, slowly and steadily. Ferdinand groaned. He wanted Hubert to lose control, send those narrow hips snapping but of course, Hubert would not. He raised himself on one hand, still watching, always watching, as he drew himself in and out of Ferdinand deliberately. 

If it hadn’t been for the wildness of his eyes, Ferdinand could almost have believed Hubert unaffected by the desperation he felt burning through his veins like unquenchable witch-fire. But Hubert’s eyes were blown wide, fixed on Ferdinand’s face like he was bearing witness to a holy miracle. 

Ferdinand thought he might as well give him something to look at, winding his legs around Hubert’s waist and arching his chest upwards, baring his neck with the bruises Hubert had given him. Fuck, Hubert felt good. Ferdinand tried to say how good, how amazing it felt to be split open like this, the gorgeous feeling of fullness overwhelming all his nerve-endings, sending them spitting and fraying and sparking. He couldn’t form the words, only begging, greedy noises as Hubert dragged himself in and out.

Even through the deluge of sensation, Ferdinand could see the way his pleasure affected Hubert’s. For every sigh, every whimper, Hubert’s thrusts grew more desperate, sharper. Ferdinand pressed a hand against Hubert’s chest and even through his waistcoat and shirt, he could feel Hubert’s heartbeat thrumming under his hand, matching Ferdinand’s in thundering cadence. Goddess, every thrust sent the thick woollen material of Hubert’s trousers scraping against the tender skin of his inner thighs, the crisp cotton rasping over his nipples, the silken ends of Hubert’s undone cravat flickering like snake tongues over his collarbones.

“Hubert please, can I touch myself?” Ferdinand begged. “Saints, please, I want to come like this, feels so good with you fucking me, Hubert, please - I want to come -”

“Touch yourself,” snarled Hubert. “Do it, Ferdinand, want to see you come undone underneath me, want to see you losing yourself on my cock -”

Ferdinand keened as he reached between their bodies, jerking against Hubert, taking him even deeper as his calloused hand moved against his dripping cock. It wouldn’t take long at all, not with Hubert watching him like that. _He_ was the one losing control in Ferdinand, that iron will starting to fray and snap thread by shimmering grey thread as Ferdinand clenched down on him and his thrusts became sloppier and sloppier.

Ferdinand came with Hubert’s face frantic above him, drinking in the way amazement filled those wide green eyes as Ferdinand lost himself in the pleasure, grounding himself down on Hubert’s cock, crying out he was seized in a drowning wave, dragging him under its wake.

Dimly he heard Hubert curse above him, felt his hips stutter and then Hubert was coming, hissing Ferdinand’s name low as he did. Ferdinand wished he could have seen it. _Another time_ , he promised himself, slowly blinking his eyes open as Hubert collapsed on top of him, breathing heavily.

***

Ferdinand had his arms wound around Hubert’s shoulders and pressed a kiss against Hubert’s forehead, then his cheeks. Hubert kept his eyes closed as Ferdinand nuzzled into his sweaty hair and told himself he was just gathering his bearings from an orgasm that had left him feeling like a ship newly wrecked. Then Ferdinand jostled him, laughing quietly. “Hubert, get up. You’ll ruin your shirt.”

Hubert blinked, and straightened in Ferdinand’s arms as he realized he was fully collapsed on top of him, shirt pressed into his cum-stained chest. “I’ll go clean us up,” he said, pulling out with a wince.

“I keep some clean rags in the bottom drawer,” said Ferdinand. He raised his eyebrows at Hubert as he reached over, angling to open the drawer without messing the sheets up too much. “I am surprised you did not also find them while you were rooting about. Got distracted, did you?”

Hubert scowled at him and did not deign a response as he took over the task, swiping at his chest and between Ferdinand’s legs briskly. That didn’t seem to deter Ferdinand in the slightest. He pulled Hubert back into bed with him, under the covers. Hubert glanced at the scar on Ferdinand’s shoulder and found he could not protest.

“So you spent your time at Garreg Mach fantasizing about me?” 

It was the first time Hubert had heard a hint of the old braggadocio back in Ferdinand’s voice since he had come to Wildfall Court. It should have annoyed him; it did not. Hubert could hardly blame Ferdinand. He knew it was mildly (very) pathetic but he wanted to hear it again as well. If he could have recorded Ferdinand saying softly, _You distracted me too_ , he would have. And played it over and over and over again until Edelgard came to remove him from all government office on grounds of senility.

Hubert panicked on that alone, pulling away from Ferdinand. “Speaking of Garreg Mach,” he said hastily, “your mother kept asking me questions about your time there. Is there something in particular you’d like me to tell her? Or not, as the case may be.”

“She was asking you about _me?_ ” Ferdinand looked absolutely taken aback by the idea, as if it had never occurred to him that his mother could be interested in him. Hubert thought briefly about strangling Lady Aegir. It was not the first time he had thought of it, but it was the first time it had been on Ferdinand’s behalf. “About my time at Garreg Mach?”

“She indicated you did not speak often of it,” Hubert replied. He thought of Lady Aegir’s closed-off face. It was impossible to tell if it was concern that had motivated her to pump Hubert for information about her son. The urge towards strangulation intensified. “Has she ever asked you?”

“No,” Ferdinand began to look guilty. “It is true I did not speak of it either. There was so much to do in the first year. She must have thought I would not want to be reminded. Perhaps I should have shared more with her. She had fond memories of her time at Garreg Mach, at least in the beginning.”

“I am aware,” Hubert said, pulling a face. “Apparently she was at Garreg Mach with my father.”

“Oh, did your father have you young as well?”

Hubert stared at him, mind starting to work. “What do you mean?”

“Lady Aegir was only nineteen when she was married and twenty when she had me,” Ferdinand said. “I think she’s always regretted marrying so early. I suspect that’s why she sided with me so ardently when I protested the engagement to Bernadetta - before I knew she was Bernadetta, of course. My father wasn’t best pleased with that and neither was House Varley but she refused to budge on it. Was your father also married young?”

“No, he was thirty when he married and thirty-five when he had me.” Hubert did the math and his gorge started to rise. “Your mother - she implied that she had some sort of _tendre_ for my father during their time together at Garreg Mach!”

“Well,” Ferdinand said reasonably. “That is impossible, their ages mean there can have been no overlap.”

“She said in another world, you and I might have been _brothers!_ ”

“Goddess,” Ferdinand started to laugh. “I wish I could have seen your face!”

“She has been sighing wistfully and making these implications for _more than_ _three weeks_ now!”

Ferdinand was still laughing, twisting onto his side as if his stomach hurt with it. Hubert considered smothering him with the pillow but settled for hitting him with it instead, hard. 

“Hubert! Really!” Ferdinand snatched the pillow from him, pulling it to his chest. “Stop that! Just because my mother has been teasing you -”

“ _That woman_.” Hubert thought of Lady Aegir’s carefully blank face, the way her corners of her mouth barely twitched. Dorothea was the only one who teased him with any regularity and even she knew perfectly well never to allude to his father in any way, shape or form. Even Edelgard — “Does she have some sort of death wish?” 

Ferdinand’s laughter died away abruptly. When Hubert turned to look at him, Ferdinand was staring up at the ceiling with a new look of horrified comprehension on his face. 

“Wait,” he said. “Oh. Oh no. I probably should have mentioned this to you earlier.”

“Mentioned what,” said Hubert flatly.

“Er. The thing is. Lady Aegir is, uh, aware of our agreement.

“ _What?_ ” 

“Not the whole of it! Just that we are sleeping together!” Ferdinand hastened to say, as if that was meant to make Hubert feel better that the mother of the other party in a carnal agreement was aware of said agreement in the first place. “And perhaps that it might have had some implication on my ability to stay a bit longer!”

“You _told_ her about this?”

Ferdinand made a face. “I am absolutely not in the habit of running my personal life by my mother, Hubert! She guessed it. I cannot imagine how.”

Hubert could imagine it perfectly well. When he was flustered, Ferdinand had the poker face of an emotionally compromised toddler. It was something he had been finding strangely endearing since his arrival to Wildfall Court. It was significantly less endearing right now. “And you didn’t think to mention this to me earlier, Ferdinand? She threatened to horsewhip me this morning!”

“She _what?”_ Ferdinand sat up straight in bed, ridiculously clutching the bed covers to his naked chest. He turned round, despairing eyes onto Hubert, as if envisioning both his parents in a prison cell in Enbarr. Hubert pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I believe Lady Aegir thought I was trying to accuse you of treason,” he said.

Ferdinand flopped back down onto his pillows. “Oh. Well. In fairness to her, it only took you about twenty minutes to do that once you were in Wildfall Court.”

Hubert shot him a nasty look. “I do not make a habit of going around accusing everyone around me of treason and sedition.”

Ferdinand just looked at him. After a while, he plainly decided this was a fight that - probably for the first time in his loudmouth, orange life - he did not care to begin. Instead, he brightened slightly. “I cannot believe she threatened to horsewhip you because she thought you were trying to accuse me of treason,” he said, as if that were an extraordinary act of motherly kindness and solicitude. “Wait a minute - were you?”

“No!” Hubert snarled. “I was not!”

“Alright,” said Ferdinand, plainly dubious. “I believe you.”

Hubert glared at him. “If you must know, she said you came back from Garreg Mach much changed, and I wanted to know how.” That wiped the levity off Ferdinand’s face and Hubert could not even say he was pleased about it. 

“Well,” Ferdinand said slowly. “I cannot deny that I feel… strange about knowing that I have been the subject of discussion between you and my mother.” He glanced at Hubert, clearly expecting a sarcastic interjection. While several had occurred to Hubert, even he had enough good sense to stay silent now, while Ferdinand’s face had this peculiar, pinched expression. 

“I told you it was my mother who suggested we empty the house and reinvest profits in the estate,” Ferdinand said. “Truthfully, I gave her no choice. I was wild with fear. The territory was in poor shape.”

“You were afraid for the people of Aegir,” began Hubert and Ferdinand laughed tightly.

“I was afraid for _me_ , Hubert. More than a few people in Enbarr shared your qualms. And rather than stay and prove you all wrong - I was so relieved when Lady Aegir’s letter came. And then I got here and I thought if I failed, you all might think I was no use to Edelgard’s cause.”

“I,” Hubert started, “We - none of us would ever have thought that, Ferdinand.”

He opened his mouth to say more and found he could not. What he wanted to say was jostled up and tangled in him: the way Caspar and Edelgard had not stopped lamenting Ferdinand’s absence on the training ground all three years; the way Linhardt and Bernadetta dropped their work when Petra came in with a letter from Aegir; how often Dorothea said, “Oh, I must remember to write Ferdie that!”

Instead, he reached out and tangled his fingers through Ferdinand’s, gripping tightly. Ferdinand looked at their joined hands, then up at him, but Hubert did not know how to tell him any of it. He did not know how to tell him about the way Hubert had shut himself up in his office for a long while after Ferdinand’s carriage had left Enbarr. And so they sat there, for a little space of time, in silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> still tentatively figuring out twitter and super happy to chat! come yell. @feather_hearted


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: no porn in this one, sorry.
> 
> other content warnings: discussion of sexual coercion, fear of heights, discussion of weight
> 
> thank you as always to [qwertyuiop678](https://archiveofourown.org/users/qwertyuiop678/pseuds/qwertyuiop678) for your encouragement. This fic wld just be a scream in the wind without you. 
> 
> massive thanks to [Elasmosaurus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elasmosaurus) for always answering the horse-shaped bat-signal, in the form of a frantic yell on discord.
> 
> please check out this [absolutely stunning art of chapter 1](https://twitter.com/ftsartblog/status/1362106076762681349) by [ftsartblog](https://twitter.com/ftsartblog) (SFW but NSFW pic further down in thread.)

Ferdinand accompanied Hubert to the pegasus field the next morning. He appeared as Hubert let himself out, swinging himself down from Astraea to meet him. In the winter, the sun did not rise early so it was dark and cold still but Ferdinand’s face was flushed, hair untidy. He took Hubert’s bare hands. “You left without your gloves?”

After their conversation yesterday, Ferdinand had lifted their joined hands to his lips and kissed Hubert’s knuckles gently, then disentangled himself. They returned to work as if nothing strange had transpired. When Hubert came to bed, Ferdinand reached for him with nothing else on but a sly smile. In the morning, Hubert had pretended to stay asleep as Ferdinand readied himself for his ride, leaving in a manner he probably thought was silent. 

Hubert rolled over and tried not to notice the way Ferdinand’s pillow smelled of him. He felt uneasy, like he had taken Ferdinand’s confidences without the right to do so, and sat there, lumpen, while Ferdinand’s hurts burned. All day yesterday, he wanted to open his mouth and say something but he didn’t know what would come out. Those unknown, unsaid words thumped in his chest uncomfortably, surging with every breath, taking up too much room in his throat.

Now, Hubert opened his mouth again, to attempt something, anything. But everything inside him screeched to a halt as Ferdinand lifted his bare hands to his mouth, breathing hotly over Hubert’s chilled fingers. He chafed them between his gloved hands. Nothing had prepared Hubert for this casual physical contact. “Is that better?”

“What?” Hubert managed. Then he rapidly blinked the addled expression off his face and pulled his hands away. His fingers felt like they had been seared in hot oil. “I’m fine, Ferdinand, don’t fuss. I forgot my gloves in my room, that’s all.”

“You may have mine, if you wish,” Ferdinand said. “Or after I’ve spoken to Lady Aegir, I will go back to the house and bring them to you?”

Hubert had difficulty swallowing. “Nonsense, don’t waste your time. I do not feel the cold easily.”

Ferdinand let it go but Astraea snorted as she fell into step next to them, Ferdinand holding her reins easily She gave Hubert a look. Perhaps it was an overactive conscience but Hubert felt as if the horses around him had been particularly judgemental lately. He had to wait for Ferdinand to put her away in the stable and by the time they made their way through the trees to the pegasus paddock, Lady Aegir was already mid-ride.

She sat astride Aphra, taking Currer, Acton and Ellis through flying drills. She carried a silver lance, holding it easily as they spun in the sky. Hubert thought, suddenly and vividly, of the carrion that circled lazily over battlefields. 

The large rotations they took began to tighten, then quickened. The pegasi never broke formation, each keeping a mathematically precise distance from the others. 

Lady Aegir must have given some signal, though Hubert could not tell what. Aphra dived, so suddenly and sharply that Lady Aegir’s braid came undone. It slashed through the steel grey air of the morning like a thin streak of blood as her lance flashed, a sleek arc of silver. Then Aphra took her on a sharp lift upwards, cutting through the air at almost ninety degrees, as if darting out of the attack range of their imaginary opponent. Currer, Acton and Ellis repeated Aphra’s movements a half second later, in perfect battalion formation. If they’d had riders, a rain of sharp silver would have decimated their opponents.

Hubert instinctively looked for Wollstonecraft and there she was, standing right below them and looking upwards, eyes wide.

The pegasus battalion circled the air again, then Lady Aegir whistled and Wollstonecraft bounced, once, twice, and lifted up. Lady Aegir did not take them through any further attack drills. Instead, the five horses and rider took a V formation. Wollstonecraft flew a hair too close to Acton and was a few seconds off in reaction time, the exercise clearly not completely ingrained yet. But as they floated to the ground and broke formation, Lady Aegir went immediately to her, rubbing her down affectionately. 

Aphra followed, nudging Wollstonecraft with her forehead. Wollstonecraft gloried in the attention but she looked up as Ferdinand and Hubert approached. 

When her eyes fixed on Hubert, he could almost see the image “apple” flash across her greedy brain. Wollstonecraft bounced again - half flying, half trotting - and headed towards him eagerly. 

Lady Aegir followed her direction and the smile on her face became smaller, more fixed. “Marquis Vestra, Ferdinand,” she said, straightening. She made no move to come to meet them but stood there, slowly and deliberately pinning up her hair. “Good morning. Ferdinand, what are you doing here?”

Ferdinand opened his mouth. He closed it. Hubert saw the way red crawled its way up the back of Ferdinand’s neck, caught the uneasy glance Ferdinand slid towards him. Ferdinand had barrelled towards this conversation in his customary headlong fashion but it was unusual for him to be so hesitant. He was shy around his mother in a way Hubert had never seen, like she was a limb so newly healed he could not bear to test it.

Hubert felt a surge of protectiveness. He put his hand on Ferdinand’s shoulder and decided to assist. 

“I believe Ferdinand had some questions about our conversation yesterday, Lady Aegir,” he said flatly. 

Lady Aegir looked at him, then back at Ferdinand. She had to know she had been caught out but without a moment’s blush, she said, “About my association with Marquis Vestra’s father, Ferdinand? Oh, as I told him, there’s not much to say, dear. You know what things are like at Garreg Mach, when you’re training together for a full year and all sorts of passions may arise -”

“ _Mother_ ,” Ferdinand said. Lady Aegir stopped obligingly but the corners of her mouth were twitching again, horrible woman. “Could we speak for a moment please?”

“Of course, Ferdinand,” she said graciously. “Marquis Vestra, why don’t you get started with Wollstonecraft. Just,” she waved a hand vaguely, “walk with her, speak to her, frolic, that sort of thing.”

Hubert kept his eyes on Ferdinand. He only stepped back when he received a slight nod. “Of course, Lady Aegir,” he said, and watched as the two of them walked away.

***

Ferdinand hoped that Hubert had no way of eavesdropping on them. Lady Aegir seemed entirely unconcerned by this consideration, striding along on easily. She stopped by a little copse of trees, a suitable distance from the pegasus paddock, and turned. “Well?”

True to form, Lady Aegir had not attempted any personal conversation since their confrontation over the silverware. Though once or twice, Ferdinand caught her looking at him with an expression that was hard to decipher. It wasn’t the first time they had been alone since their conversation in the Wilhemina parlour but it was the first time that Ferdinand was attempting to speak to her about something more than estate business. 

There wasn’t really a graceful way to bring up to one’s mother threatening to horsewhip one’s - Ferdinand’s mind stuttered over the adequate noun - so Ferdinand took a deep breath and plunged recklessly into the breach:

“I would not put too much stake in Hubert accusing anyone of sedition, it is his idea of small-talk.” Ferdinand paused. “I did appreciate the instinct on your part, however.”

Lady Aegir stared at him for a long second, then sighed. “Shared that with you, did he?”

“Of course he did! We are - well, whatever we are, you cannot go around threatening to horsewhip people,” Ferdinand said, feeling as though he ought not have to remind his mother of this basic rule of etiquette. “Especially ones who are guests in our house and -” 

_In my bed_ sounded crass and he hesitated. Lady Aegir said, impatiently, “And who could order our immediate imprisonment and execution - yes, yes. I am aware. It was a lapse in judgement.”

Ferdinand wanted to point out it was far from the only one. Her continued needling of Hubert von Vestra about a potential dalliance with his hated father had not been sensible, by anyone’s standards. Ferdinand refrained. He suspected that getting into recent decisions made by the Aegir family regarding Hubert von Vestra would only take the conversation into muddy waters. 

“Hubert said that you were curious about my time at Garreg Mach,” Ferdinand said instead. He realized his posture was rigidly correct, and consciously relaxed his shoulders. “Is that true? Or were you just trying to needle him?”

“It was true.” Lady Aegir looked particularly frozen and for a long minute, Ferdinand thought that was all he would get. Then, “I wanted to know more about the two of you. What your relationship was like in school.” 

She shrugged. “ _And_ I was trying to needle him.”

“Mother! Why -”

“I thought it would be fairly obvious why, Ferdinand.”

“I _meant_ ,” Ferdinand said, through gritted teeth. “Why did you want to know about our relationship prior to this?”

Lady Aegir had been looking away from him as she spoke, tapping her riding crop against her leg. Now she met his eyes. “Sometimes it’s just opportunity,” she said. “They might see someone pretty and when they realise they can have it for very little effort, well, there you are. Sometimes it turns out they’ve built up this grand story about you in their heads and they’d better not have any power over you when you decide to take a step out of their tale. That’s worse.”

Ferdinand whitened. “It is not like that.” 

He could see Lady Aegir’s fear now, laid out flat and stark and ugly like a war map. But it bore no relation to what had happened. The way Ferdinand had wanted Hubert and the way he had taken him, sure as a thief in the night. On his knees before him, hands tight on Hubert’s thighs. Offering himself eagerly up to Hubert’s hungry eyes. 

It was not a memory one ought to revisit in front of one’s mother and Ferdinand shifted subtly. “The truth is,” he said, “that this is a mutually beneficial agreement. I, uh, I have never been indifferent to Hubert.”

Lady Aegir made a face.

Ferdinand crossed his arms. “I think him very handsome,” he said huffily. “His hair is dark and wavy and very lovely, and he has such a piercing gaze. I like his cheekbones! And he is so long and lean - if you could make a blade out of moonlight -”

“Ferdinand,” Lady Aegir said. “I beg of you. Please stop.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose for a moment then, composure forcibly recovered, said, “All of that is very well and good but I am more concerned about his character. The kind of person who would take advantage in a situation like this, when all the power is on his side -”

“I beg your pardon! He is not taking advantage! Do not speak to me of Hubert’s character,” flared Ferdinand. “You have not seen the type of loyalty that he is capable of, the type of care -”

—new music sheets that appeared underneath Dorothea’s door after each battle, as if reminding her she was capable of much more than blood and death—

—the time the kitchens had received only Brigidan supplies so they spent two weeks eating Petra’s favourite food after she mentioned her homesickness in passing— 

—the way Edelgard’s hair shone, even at she was at her busiest, as if someone always took the time to brush it out for her a hundred times each night — 

He and Hubert had been just over two weeks sharing an office and Ferdinand’s quill nibs were perfectly sharpened.

Ferdinand realized his hands were shaking. Want yawned inside him, a dragon seeking its horde. The care that Hubert took of the people who mattered to him. Ferdinand had always envied Edelgard those small, thoughtful attentions and now that he had a small taste of it, he wanted to curl around Hubert and keep him all to himself.

But he was being ridiculous. He had been lonely, these few years at Wildfall. 

Ferdinand forced himself to take a steadying breath. He folded that feeling into a more manageable shape. “I enjoy Hubert’s company and I have certainly not been forced. I made this choice myself.”

“There are circumstances where what is on offer may barely be termed a choice,” Lady Aegir said. 

Ferdinand felt his chest tighten. He wanted to ask her what those circumstances had been for her. He thought of Lady Aegir at twenty - two years younger than he was now! - holding a red-headed baby on her hip. She had never spoken of her marriage to him but Ferdinand was old enough - perhaps he knew enough of his father now - to try not to blame her for going.

Lady Aegir’s gaze was steady on his. “You do not have to do anything you do not wish to, Ferdinand. I promise. I was not always able to be there for you but this is not your only choice.”

Her face was very calm, even cold, but Ferdinand could see the tension in her hands. Lady Aegir crossed her arms under her breast. Her fingers dug into her elbows like she was trying to keep all her hurt safely contained where it could not spill out and drown her. Ferdinand thought of the way Hubert held his hands in the quiet yesterday. Hubert’s fingers lacing tight like he was trying to take Ferdinand’s pain into himself. 

He reached out. Ferdinand put his arm around his mother. She stiffened and Ferdinand started to pull away but then one of her hands came up to rest over his. The callouses on her palm and fingertips thick and hardened. She trained as frequently as he did with her lance, and her grip was rough and reassuring. Ferdinand leaned back against her instinctively. 

A memory: sudden, like something caught out of the corner of his eye: a small boy burrowing into his mother’s side, putting all his weight against her, certain she would not let him fall. 

Lady Aegir pulled away gently, and turned to face him. Her amber eyes flickered over his face. “I don’t want to talk around in circles with you, Ferdinand,” she said. “If you do not want to go to war, you don’t have to. I’m scared of you dying there and I’m scared of what comes after, if it’s not politically safe to be kind to Ludwig’s son.”

“If I thought Edelgard were that kind of person, I could not give her my allegiance. As it stands, I wish to work with Hubert to further her cause,” Ferdinand said gently. “And Hubert is not the kind of person who is careless about his friendships. He is not the kind of person who leaves.”

He did not notice Lady Aegir’s flinch as he squeezed her shoulder. “And aside from everything, he is my friend and I am his. And I think he cares about that as well. About me.”

“Oh Ferdinand,” his mother sighed, and she turned, tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear. “How could he not?”

***

The walk back to the pegasus field was quiet. Ferdinand kept his arm laced through the crook of his mother’s elbow and she did not pull away. Lady Aegir looked thoughtful and just before they reached the field, she came to a halt.

Without looking at him, she said, “All I want is for you to be able to do what’s best for you. You will tell me if things change, won’t you? We do not have the same resources we used to, but we are not entirely bereft.”

Touched, Ferdinand looked down on his mother. “You must keep your Widow’s Relief for yourself,” he said. “Edelgard pays her generals a reasonable wage and I can survive perfectly well on that -”

Before Lady Aegir could respond, they rounded the corner. She made a sound of surprise and Ferdinand looked up. Hubert’s hand was on Wollstonecraft’s neck - though he had to reach quite far up to accomplish this, Wollstonecraft was growing fast - and he held his other palm before her. 

A small black flame danced in it, filling the air with a familiar smell. Hubert’s magic had a mineral tang to it, like a taste of water from a muddy stream, dirt and iron.

Animals always had trouble with dark magic; none of the numerous monastery cats and dogs went near Hubert or Lysithea. The school horses hated it when Hubert had flanked him in battle, trembling and shivering under Ferdinand as Hubert sent power screaming from his fingertips. Sure enough, the other pegasi in the field stood far away, though Aphra was snorting and pacing back and forth in agitation. 

But Wollstonecraft didn’t seem to care. She tilted her head to the side, studying the flame curiously. Then she tried to bite it. 

Hubert snatched his hand out of the way. “No!” he said, though there was a laugh in his voice that made Ferdinand’s insides swoop. “Despite your best attempts, not everything is edible. You’ll burn your tongue, you foolish -”

He stopped at the sight of them. The flame winked out of his hand and Wollstonecraft blinked. Then she nudged at Hubert’s hand, clearly wondering where her snack had gone.

“I did not know you had started on familiarizing Wollstonecraft with magic already,” Ferdinand said. Hubert’s gaze flitted over him, trying to read his expression, checking for anger, or sadness, or hurt. Truthfully, Ferdinand wasn’t entirely sure what he felt but whatever Hubert saw on his face, his stance relaxed. 

“We had not.” Lady Aegir’s voice was very dry. 

Hubert cleared his throat. “I did not start off close to them, I know most animals are distressed by dark magic. I was running through some minor spells to keep warm -” Ferdinand glanced involuntarily at Hubert’s long, bare hands “- and Wollstonecraft became curious.”

“Probably thought it was a new type of treat,” said his mother, exasperated, and Hubert actually smiled, one corner of his mouth tilting upwards before he caught himself. Ferdinand wanted to go to him, take his hand, press his face against Hubert’s shoulder for the sheer pleasure of him.

“Wollstonecraft clearly has a knack for it,” Ferdinand declared. “I would love to stay for your session today.”

He saw Hubert and his mother exchange an involuntary look of consternation. Clearly both had been hoping to cross-examine the other, but neither were willing to gainsay him. Which was exactly what he had been counting on. Ferdinand beamed. 

Sulkily Hubert bowed towards Lady Aegir. “I am at your discretion.”

“I thank you,” she returned with equal gloom.

***

Ferdinand was not distressed. That was the first thing Hubert had looked for but Ferdinand only seemed lost in thought as he perched himself on the fence. He caught Hubert’s eye. Ferdinand blinked at him, then smiled, almost shyly. 

Hubert whipped his head around to Lady Aegir who tapped her riding crop against her thigh in a considering manner as Wollstonecraft nibbled the grass.

“Since she’s become used to the smell of your magic, I think it’s time we get her acclimatized to the actual casting. Ferdinand, could you please put the others in the stable? If they think Wollstonecraft is in danger, they might charge.” Lady Aegir smiled pointedly at Hubert. He glared back.

“With great pleasure,” said Ferdinand. “Will you not assist me, Lady Aegir?”

As they walked a little distance from Hubert, he heard Ferdinand hiss, “We discussed this!”

“I beg your pardon for saving Marquis Vestra from being trampled to death by protective pegasi, Ferdinand.”

“You know what I mean!”

Aphra was the most reluctant to go but Lady Aegir was inexorable. When they returned, Ferdinand carried a bucket of grain which made Wollstonecraft prance delightedly. He set it down and Wollstonecraft ran right over and stuck her face in it.

Lady Aegir let her and gestured at Hubert. She had him stand about twenty feet from Wollstonecraft. Ferdinand leaned against the fence. He smiled reassuringly as Hubert caught his eye.

“Since Wollstonecraft has become acclimatized to the smell of your magic, we can start getting her used to the sound and feel of it as well. Apply your battle cry before you cast though.”

“What?” 

“It serves as a warning for her. One that eventually, we hope, she’ll choose to ignore. For now we give her the opportunity to decide to be brave. She’ll startle at first when you cast, that’s inevitable. But the sound of your voice will remind her that we are between her and the spell and she’ll want to return to the grain.”

Wollstonecraft, indeed, continued to be extremely attached to the bucket. She was paying no attention to the rest of them whatsoever. 

By now, casting Miasma came as naturally to him as breathing. Hubert felt the familiar surge of it crackle along the length of his arm and as it came, his habitual battle cry bubbled to his lips with the power as he concentrated and — 

“What,” interrupted Lady Aegir, “the hell is _that._ ”

Hubert stopped mid-cackle. “You told me to use my battle cry before I cast.”

Lady Aegir looked nonplussed. “Right. In retrospect, I suppose I could have expected something like that.”

Ferdinand, the traitor, was hiding a laugh behind his hand. “Do not discredit Hubert’s hard work like that. I am sure it took a lot of practice before he hit the right bloodcurdling pitch.”

Hubert glared at him. “Oh yes? I can only hope you did not spend any significant amount of time developing yours if the best you could come up with was _‘I am Ferdinand von Aegir!’_ ” he mimicked.

“Oh Ferdinand,” said Lady Aegir. “Not really.”

That wiped the smile off Ferdinand’s face. “I do not think it is fair to hold what anyone says or does in the heat of bloodlust against them!” 

“Maybe not the first time,” Hubert said. “But after the thousandth -”

Ferdinand bristled.

“Please,” Lady Aegir interrupted. “Let’s get on before Wollstonecraft finishes off all the grain.”

Hubert sneered at Ferdinand who stuck his tongue out at him. Lady Aegir looked mildly sickened at this little byplay. Hubert had to bite back his smile as he resumed his stance. This time he tried, “Prepare to die!”

Wollstonecraft did not respond, and Hubert cast.

The spell exploded out of his fingers and the air sizzled. Wollstonecraft pulled her head out of the grain and stared as it smashed into a corner of the field in a flare of purple. Wollstonecraft’s eyes were very wide and she blinked once. Then she reapplied her face to the bucket. Ferdinand applauded from the sidelines.

“Try another,” Lady Aegir instructed, and Hubert did. It wasn’t until Banshee shook the fences that Wollstonecraft became alarmed enough to take to the sky, circling anxiously. Hubert started forward with no clear plan, but Lady Aegir put a quelling hand on his arm. 

When no one seemed to be screaming or on fire, Wollstonecraft gradually lowered herself down. She looked at Hubert uncertainly, then back at the bucket of grain. Since no one stopped her, she started munching again.

Lady Aegir gestured Hubert a bit closer and they repeated the process, this time with significantly less commentary on his battlecries. By the time the grain was gone, Hubert was casting from about five feet away.

Ferdinand’s hair was frizzing at the edges with all the magic in the air. “That was extraordinary!” he exclaimed. “What a brilliant, brave pegasus you are!”

Wollstonecraft ignored him and overturned the grain bucket. She flared her wings in irritation upon discovering it was, in fact, extremely empty. She turned and looked at Hubert but when he reached out to her, she flinched away. It was the first time she had ever done that. 

Lady Aegir took a sidelong glance at the look on his face and pulled out a carrot. Wollstonecraft looked at her with interest. Lady Aegir, humiliatingly, gave it to Hubert instead. 

“Go on,” she said, inclining her head. 

This time Wollstonecraft went back and forth, but when it was evident that no one else in the field planned to provide her with any food, she took it delicately between her great teeth and ate it in two crunches. After that, all was forgiven. Wollstonecraft bumped his shoulder with her nose and Hubert nearly fell over.

“That is an extraordinarily food-motivated pegasus,” Ferdinand commented. He scratched at her flanks like she was a big dog. “Are you not greedy, you pretty thing! If you keep this up, I wonder if you will even be able to fly.”

Wollstonecraft flicked her mane into Ferdinand’s face, which only made him laugh.

“She’s made extraordinary progress,” Lady Aegir said. “It might be overambitious but maybe we could try you in the saddle today?”

Hubert turned in consternation. “I thought pegasi don’t let men ride them,” he said. 

“Yes,” agreed Ferdinand. “Don’t they have very delicate sensibilities that men upset?”

Lady Aegir snorted, an uncharacteristically inelegant sound. “For people who are setting themselves at war with the church, you two have certainly imbibed enough of their doctrine. The pegasi at Garreg Mach have been bred between each other for speed and nothing else. It’s all the Church has allowed but it’s nonsense. Wild pegasi don’t know anything about the Church’s restrictions on mixing with the other countries - I’d say Aphra is at least part Dagdan qilin, but there’s no way of knowing for sure.

“Garreg Mach’s pegasi can’t carry much more than a hundred ten pounds at a stretch. That’s the only reason men can’t ride them, whatever excuses the Church tries. Aphra can carry me and stay as fast as any of Garreg Mach’s pegasi and Wollstonecraft is her daughter. And if Wollstonecraft has any sensibility, I’ve yet to discover it. That creature is all stomach.”

Hubert was fairly certain that Lady Aegir’s original insistence on his help with Wollstonecraft had been a plot to aggravate him and keep him away from Ferdinand for at least part of the day. Perhaps it started that way, but her excitement at this success was real. Lady Aegir’s cheeks were flushed, her eyes glinting with something like triumph. When Lady Aegir was animated, the family resemblance came out startlingly. And Ferdinand was looking at his mother like her excitement was new to him too, and wonderful.

“The Dark Flier class hasn’t been seen in Fodlan for years. Not since House Nuvelle - and even then, I think they still worked with Garreg Mach pegasi. Imagine resurrecting that!”

She had never become more than a Pegasus Knight at Garreg Mach; Hubert was beginning to see that it was certainly not for lack of trying. Hubert grit his teeth.

“I am sure this could be a most useful development for Her Majesty’s war. If you are certain it is safe for Wollstonecraft, I will try it.”

“You will?” 

Ferdinand beamed at him. “That is very thoughtful, Hubert. I know you were not overly fond of riding back at Garreg Mach but I assure you, your seat was always very good and I am sure you will take to flying the same way.”

Hubert had not been fond of riding at Garreg Mach because sitting high on a horse had given him vertigo. He managed a sickly smile.

Lady Aegir saddled Wollstonecraft for him and Ferdinand assisted her, possibly to make sure she hadn’t left all the bridle buckles unfastened. Evidently the prospect of training Wollstonecraft up as a potential Dark Flier mount had reduced her murderous intent. She even gave him a helmet. 

“Do not cast,” Lady Aegir said. “I would like you to just be comfortable on her for a start, since you are not a habitual rider. We will just take Wollstonecraft on a walk around the field.”

Hubert let Ferdinand hoist him onto the seat and steady him. Ferdinand was probably giving him a reassuring smile but Hubert couldn’t look down to check. The ground felt far away as it was. He gathered the reins in his hands and squeezed Wollstonecraft lightly with his legs to cue her to walk. 

It had been some time since Hubert had been on a horse rather than in a carriage or on his feet in the battlefield and he tried not to let himself stiffen in the saddle but it was difficult with nerves and the cold. Hubert settled for gripping the reins tightly, which Wollstonecraft took, unfortunately, as a cue to start cantering.

Wollstonecraft might have the sensibility of a stone but she was still replete with grain, buzzing with energy and overstimulation from a series of pretty colours, strange smells, loud noises and more people paying attention to her than normal. Hubert tried to signal to her that she needed to slow down, and then stop right now - absolutely this second! - but stiff with fright, his nervousness infected Wollstonecraft and she knew only one response to existential anxiety.

“No,” said Hubert out loud, when Wollstonecraft’s wings snapped out. “Oh no.”

And she lifted off. 

Dimly, Hubert realized that Ferdinand was calling out. It sounded like, “Hubert! Just stay calm!” It was easy for Ferdinand to say that, on account of the fact that he probably didn’t have his whole life flashing across his eyes. Vertigo was a whole-body nausea. Hubert’s stomach felt like it had detached itself from his intestines and was trying to float its way up towards his mouth. 

Hubert fought against the sway of the wind, the urge to simultaneously throttle Wollstonecraft and wrap his arms around her neck so he could not fall off. Ferdinand’s yelling had died away. Perhaps they were now so high in the sky that the air would thin soon - he would no longer be able to draw a breath - his limbs would weaken, slacken - he would fall - he wished now that he had left Ferdinand with some last message for Lady Edelgard —

“Are you about to faint?” Hubert turned to look and wished he hadn’t. He did not want the last thing he saw before he plummeted to his death to be the extremely judgemental expression on Lady Aegir’s face. She was riding Aphra bareback, as if she had swung herself on her pegasus in a hurry. 

Hubert was worried that if he opened his mouth to say “fuck off”, he would vomit, so he only shook his head.

“The safest way for both of you is if we let Wollstonecraft run off her nervousness,” Lady Aegir said. _She_ looked as comfortable as if she were lounging on a sofa, securely welded into the earth. “You need to calm yourself as well. As long as you’re nervous, she will be too - it makes her think she must run.”

“I - am doing - my best,” growled Hubert through gritted teeth. Wollstonecraft glanced back at him, perhaps in alarm at his tone. She started to accelerate —

Then Aphra was there, flying alongside Wollstonecraft, nickering maternally. Hubert could only hope it was some equine version of _slow the Void down and come back to the ground, right this instant_. Proximity to her mother seemed to calm Wollstonecraft. Hubert could feel her wings relaxing, her pace slowing.

“You’re afraid of heights?” Lady Aegir sounded utterly confused. “Why did you get on Wollstonecraft then?”

“I don’t know!” snarled Hubert, who did. It was a hazy combination of Ferdinand’s smiling excitement at his mother’s sudden animation; the way Lady Aegir’s young dreams were suddenly resurrected in her cold eyes; the fact that she could have been a Falcon Knight, Lady Edelgard’s lifespan could be doubled - tripled - if the Church of Seiros had only been what it ought to be. 

“You’ll be alright,” Lady Aegir said. “Just take a deep breath. Yes, that’s right - and another. She’s already slowing down. We’ll be on the ground soon.”

They landed with a little bump. Lady Aegir slid herself easily off and offered Hubert her hand. Before he could take it, Ferdinand was there, eyes round with concern. “Hubert!” 

Ferdinand did not exactly push his mother out of the way but Lady Aegir stepped back, a look of some amusement on her face, as he surged forward. Hubert refused to let himself slump bonelessly into Ferdinand’s arms on principle but it was a close thing. He gathered the few shards of dignity he still retained and stood rigidly as Ferdinand fussed. 

“You are both alright? Hubert, you are so pale! Are you alright? Do you need to sit down?” 

“I’m fine, Ferdinand.” Against his will, he was beginning to redden under Ferdinand’s anxious attention. The way Ferdinand cupped his cheek with one hand, peering up at him with concern as if Hubert had done something significantly more dangerous and impressive than have a young pegasus mare run away with him. The way Ferdinand looked at him, as if —

“Leave off, Ferdinand.” Lady Aegir put her hand on Ferdinand’s shoulder. “Give the poor man a minute to get his bearings. Marquis Vestra, why don’t you come over here and let Wollstonecraft know that you don’t have any hard feelings against her?”

“But I do,” said Hubert, as he started to rub the side of Wollstonecraft’s neck automatically. “I am extremely unimpressed with her.”

He could feel her pulse thudding under his hand and she turned to blink her wide yellow eyes at him, before ducking her head like she was embarrassed by her own behaviour. As well she ought to be. Hubert realized he was smiling and stopped immediately. 

“It’s not her fault,” Lady Aegir said. “I should have known better than to try something like that after we’d just started familiarizing her with combat magic. She was overexcited.” She sighed. “So was I.”

“I would be happy to continue working with her for the duration of my stay here,” said Hubert’s mouth before his brain could catch up.

Lady Aegir raised her eyebrows at him. “You would? Why?”

“Overcoming irrational fears can only make me of greater service to Her Majesty’s cause,” said Hubert. “And Wollstonecraft took well to dark magic. It would be a waste not to expand on that.”

“Yes,” Lady Aegir said, frowning. “She trusts you. Probably because you sneak her apples during the day when you think no one will notice. She’s not the only one.”

“Someone else is feeding her apples?” Hubert said blankly.

Lady Aegir looked impatient. “She’s not the only one who trusts you.” In case he still failed to catch her meaning, she nodded significantly towards Ferdinand who was leading Aphra back to the stables. She looked at her son for a long moment, and then a corner of her mouth twisted. “I only hope you deserve it. Go on and groom Wollstonecraft - and stop feeding her between meals. It’s not good for her.”

“Right,” said Hubert. “I will. Er - thank you.”

Lady Aegir gave him an extremely jaundiced look. It suggested she had her own doubts still but would, for now, actively refrain from plotting against him. She swept away and Hubert looked towards the stables where Ferdinand stood, brushing Aphra down.

He looked up as he felt Hubert’s eyes on him. Ferdinand smiled, waving him over. Hubert’s heart thumped once, hard, and he went. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @[featherhearted](https://twitter.com/feather_hearted)


End file.
